Gravity
by Miyori Akurai
Summary: -AU- In the dark underworld of assassins and corrupt leaders, Temari had no qualms about doing her job. Yet, somehow she couldn't deal justice to this man. ShikamaruxTemari
1. Pretense

Disclaimer: Yes a new story! No, the characters are not mine!

Chapter 1

**Pretense**

In the muted lights that gave just enough visibility to see where one was going but not enough to throw off the lounge's ambience, she carefully weaved through the mass of bodies, her own brushing past tables with their occupants heavily liquored up, their hazy eyes sending wanton glances her way. Her aquamarine eyes scanned the sea of bodies until she spotted her prey.

A balding, well rounded man in a u-shaped booth surrounded with three, scantily clad women spotted her and curled a ring studded finger her way, beckoning her to sit with him. Licking her lips, she smiled coyly and shook her head. Brief surprise colored his face before it gave way to a sly smile. Barking his orders, he motioned to the two men sitting across from him. Casually yet conspicuously dressed in black, the two men led the other women away from the booth. Unable to hear what he said above the general din of the bar, she only saw the other women leave. Now, slightly tilting his head to the side, the man motioned again while gently rubbing the spot next to him in the overstuffed leather booth.

Pointing a crimson nail toward herself, she gave an amused look of surprise. The man only nodded his head, impatient for her to be next to him. Slowly, her heels clicked against the floor as she fluidly swept into the booth, her silk dress softly whooshing against the leather as she scooted in towards him.

"Good evening, Gorou-san." She purred silkily, her lips just brushing against the tip of his ear. A wide grin snaked across his lips, revealing partially yellowing teeth.

"Ayumi-chan" He rebuked her softly "you didn't come when I called you the first time." His fattened hand ran across the smooth skin of her exposed thigh.

Smirking, she ran her own slender fingers across his chest. "I don't like sharing you with other women."

"Oh?" He remarked. "Well, I took care of them for you didn't I?"

She nodded, her honeyed locks shimmering against the halter strap of her dress.

"You know you're my favorite." He said as another crocodilian smile staggered across his face.

Contented, she smiled. "Do you like my outfit Gorou-san?" She stood from the booth and displayed the emerald halter dress. The tastefully short dress reached her mid-though and was cut low in the back, revealing the small of her back. A tear shaped dip in the front teased with just enough cleavage to garner the stares of many men in the lounge that night.

"Of course." He murmured as she spun slowly, allowing him a better view. "I knew that color would look gorgeous on you when I bought that dress."

Leaning down in front of him, she watched his eyes trail straight into the valley between her breasts, before wrapping her slender fingers around his neck.

"Thank you Gorou-san." Her velvety voice filled with implication.

"Anything for you Ayumi." The pudgy man said, pulling her into his lap.

The two men in black had now returned, lightly bowing in front of her.

"Did you do what I said?" Gorou's playful expression was now replaced with a serious one.

One of the men nodded while he sat.

"Good." Gourou's voice was pleased. "Make sure I never see those skanks around me again."

Ayumi playfully ran her carefully painted nails across his bald head, periodically grinding her hips into his lap. Pleased, she watched him stifle a groan as his hold tightened around her. Looking up, he caught the devilish smile that graced her full lips.

"Should we go do something else?" He yellowing teeth gleamed in the muted light.

"Should we?" She questioned as she pressed a kiss against the top of his shiny head, her lips leaving a sultry, scarlet imprint on his head.

Nudging her off, he stood and took his chubby hand in her slender one. The two men bowed and watched the couple disappear into the crowd.

The staccato click of her silver pumps, echoed in the bar's back hallway. Pushing a door open, he led her up a flight of stairs and opened another door. He ushered her into a dimly lit room with a small window on the east side before closing the door with a firm click. A small lamp in the corner provided the light, sending its flailing tendrils onto the plush carpet and king sized bed pushed against a wall.

Kicking her shoes off, her toes curled against the creamy, plush carpet that spanned from wall to wall. She'd barely taken a step before Gorou's hands were hungrily tearing at her dress, impatiently trying everyway to get it off.

Her slender fingers slid down, barely encompassing the massive ones that trailed up and down her body.

"Wait Gorou-san." Her finger curled under one of his many chins. "Don't rush, we have all night." She softly pressed against him, attempting to calm him. She pointed a crimson nail toward the bed. "Go sit on the bed and close your eyes."

The man's eyes gleamed with lust. "I can't wait anymore Ayumi." His voice was lost in desperation to fulfill his physical needs.

Pressing against him, her fingers strayed down to the bulge in his trousers that had grown in the past few minutes.

"Gorou-san" Her voice was a cross between a breathy moan and whisper in his hear. Defeated, the man nodded and shuffled to the bed. His weight forced a large indent on the edge of the bed as he sat and closed his eyes.

"Make sure you keep them closed or you won't get what I'm going to give you." Her voice laced with just the right amount of lust to keep the man's attention. Her footsteps were feather light against the carpet as she stalked toward the lamp and killed the light. Satisfied, she pulled her dress up, revealing the shuriken holster that was carefully strapped to her upper thigh, still hidden by the dress. She quickly retrieved two shuriken and stalked toward the bed. Strong legs propelled her through the air as she pounced on the man, forcing him on his back.

"You want to be on top?" His voice was saturated with lust, his trousers barely containing the bulge that threatened to force them open.

"Oh, I'm always on top." She purred seductively before her shuriken buried themselves in the man's neck.

His eyes bulged open, widening in surprise. Her name was dying on his lips as he gasped for breath.

"A-Ayumi..." He wheezed, the scarlet spurting from his neck.

She jumped off the bed, her hands firmly planted on her hips. The bed shook as the man trembled. His face paled as she casually leaned against the wall, the moonlight silhouetting her shapely form. The aquamarine pools that stared back at him flashed in the dark room, the sultry lips he'd come to love curved upward in a wicked smile.

The angel of death was upon him.

"Ayumi?" She questioned darkly before chuckling at her alias. "No, no, no Gorou-san..." She wagged her finger at him. "My name" she said while closing the distance between them "is Temari." The shuriken casually spun in her slender fingers as she watched him.

"You bitch!" He coughed, with the last bit of his energy.

"Don't waste your breath old man. I've got plenty of other people to send to the other side tonight, so let's make this quick." She replied in a bored tone. Finally, tired of the dying man's dramatics, she sent the remaining shuriken straight into the man's heart.

He lurched forward once, gravity pulling his large body off the bed. A solid thud thumped against the floor, blood saturating the previously cream colored carpets.

Sighing, Temari retrieved her shoes and slipped them on. She'd rid the world of one less criminal. Walking past the dead man, she chuckled darkly. His mouth was wide open, saliva dribbling down his cheeks. These types of men disgusted her. Corrupted business men, partakers of elite prostitution rings, government officials that were selling secrets to other countries-- they'd all been "clients" of hers. Typically, they were all too blinded by their own lust to realize the woman next to them was merely a kunoichi hidden beneath the surface.

She pulled the small window open and unhesitatingly jumped from the second story window. Tonight's deed was done, but more than likely, another assignment awaited her. The cool night air brushed against her dress as she hailed a cab.

The buttery yellow car streamed with black halted to a stop. Grabbing the door's handle, she carefully seated herself inside and closed the door.

"The capitol building please." She stated briefly, not in the mood to make conversation with the cab driver.

The man looked back, his eyes wandering over her alluring legs.

Temari sensed his intentions and unmasked a small portion of her chakra. The dark chakra pervaded every corner of the small car, the intensity still filled with the kunoichi's killer intent. The man's face paled as she smiled.

"I'm in a hurry, can you step on it?" She said, pleased she'd given the man a reason to behave.

Wordlessly, he slowly spun around and pulled the car's gear into drive. Temari leaned back and closed her eyes. The peace only lasted a short time before she felt her phone vibrating against her leg. Annoyed, she pulled the dress up and retrieved her phone from its holster on her leg opposite the shuriken holster.

"Hello?" Her sultry voice was less than pleased.

"Did you get the job done?" Her brother's deep baritone hummed into her ear.

"Of course, Gaara. His boys will find him where I left him." She replied as she watched the scenery flash by in the window.

"Good. What about you?" He asked, his voice guarded.

"What about me?" She mimicked. "I'm on my way over right now."

"He didn't touch you did he?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Nothing more than usual Gaara; you know full well I can handle myself." Temari rolled her eyes in the darkness. This wasn't the first time she'd done this. Gaara had no reason to be worried. Besides, she'd never betray her number one rule. She **never** kissed on the lips or slept with the vile men that she lured into death.

"I'll see you soon then." She said before flipping the phone shut. Temari longed for a hot shower and comfortable shoes. Although she enjoyed what she did, her skin crawled at the disgusting feeling of men's hands on her. Corrupted men, driven by greed, power, and desire; were always her targets.

She worked with her brothers, Gaara and Kankurou, under a special division of the Suna government. Gaara, one of the chief leaders in Suna, headed the secretive co-ops department, while her other brother, Kankurou, worked as an assassin like her while moonlighting as her informant at times. Under their department, the three tracked down some of the most wanted lawbreakers in the underground.

The taxi slowly eased to a stop in front of the capitol building. Not waiting for the driver to read the meter, Temari dropped a twenty dollar bill in his lap.

"Keep the change." She murmured before smoothly stepping out and slamming the door shut. The heels of her shoes clicked brusquely against the cool pavement in the crisp night air. Approaching the door, she pulled the glass door expecting it to open. To her dismay, the door remained rigid.

Temari glanced at the watch on her wrist and cursed. "But it's only 11:30. Why are the doors locked already?"

Worn out from the night's activities, she was more than ready to break the door open with her foot. Molding the chakra in her leg, she was about ready to kick the door open when her vibrating phone interrupted her.

Aggravated she pulled the phone out and flipped it open, not bothering to check the caller id.

"What?" She demanded into the small speaker.

"Calm down before you break the door. I'm getting it unlocked as we speak." Kankurou calmly spoke into the receiver.

Sure enough, Temari heard the soft electronic click, signaling that the door was now unlocked.

"Thanks." She replied before shutting the phone.

Temari pushed the door open and swiftly strode down the hall. She passed by the stairs, not giving them a second look. Their office was on the fourth floor and she was certainly not taking the stairs. Not in these shoes.

She quickly clicked the up arrow on the elevator and waited briefly before it beckoned her inside of its paneled embrace. Three floors later, she stepped out and took a right at the corner before arriving at her destination.

The metal handle was cool against her fingers as she pushed the door open and closed it with a firm click.

"Long night?" Kankurou, wielding a manila folder in hand, was seated on one of the couches in the open sitting area.

Temari kicked the wretched heels into a filing cabinet. "Something like that." She sat on the table centered in the room and sighed loudly.

"Where's Gaara?"

Using the folder, Kankurou motioned to one of the doors in the room. "He's going over some stuff. You know he never runs out of paperwork."

"Yeah. My job is done after the kill the person. You can't kill paperwork." Temari joked.

Kankurou snorted before tossing the folder in his hands her way. "This was the guy from tonight right?"

Temari easily caught the file and scanned its contents. The bold black lettering underneath the red confidential stamp read **Takero Gorou. **

"Yeah that's him." Temari closed the file. "He'd been exchanging some very hefty secrets about the Suna government with other leaders, in exchange for some pretty extravagant gifts."

"I'm guessing there was someone on the inside helping him?" Kankurou mused.

"Probably. Which means my job is only half-way done then." Temari absentmindedly drummed her nails on the table's lacquered finish.

"Well, take a few days off. I don't think any serious transactions will be taking place now that Gorou's dead. Besides, I can take care of the insider." Kankurou stretched the taut muscles of his arm in front of her.

Scoffing, Temari hit him with the folder before going to speak with Gaara. Kankurou shot her a dirty look as she knocked on Gaara's door.

"Come in." His muffled voice came through the shuffle of papers.

"I'm assuming everything went well tonight?" The red head set the papers down and faced his sister.

"As well as a planned assassination can go." She replied dryly. "The job is only half completed though. There's probably an insider."

"Maybe, maybe not. Gorou's death should stop any dealings for some time. I'm sure he had some henchmen under him. Whether or not they'll resume business as usual is up to them. When and if

they do, I'll dispatch you to go take care of the rest of them." Gaara's low baritone stated coolly.

Temari nodded. "I'm heading out for the night." The blonder said while waving on her way out.

"Good night Temari." Gaara said as he once again disappeared beneath the stack of papers.

Temari collected her shoes and sent Kankurou a wave too.

"By the way Temari, nice shoes." Kankurou commented.

"Oh get bent Kankurou." She said before leaving the office for the night.


	2. Succession

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto

Chapter 2

**Succession**

Asuma pushed the door open and sighed. Part of him wanted to curse while the other laugh. Digging in his pockets, he pulled out a kunai and aimed it at the man comfortably leaned in the chair, feet crossed on the table, head tangent to the wall, and eyes firmly closed. With the precise flick of his wrist, the kunai soared through the air. The sleeping man's hand shot up and caught the pointed dagger, inches from his face

"Damn Asuma; I never thought _you'd_ try to take me out." He said jokingly, his eyes still closed.

Asuma chuckled. "You gotta sleep with one eye open in this business Shikamaru."

Shikamaru opened one eye and tossed the kunai back to Asuma. A sleepy smile spread across his lips. In the treacherous underworld, Asuma was the one person he could sincerely trust.

"Catch your sleep at home Shikamaru. You know better than that." Asuma said before sinking into a rickety folding chair.

"Yeah, whatever." Shikamaru closed his eye again. "Acts like my nagging mother." He muttered.

Asuma smirked. Eyes trained on the sleeping Shikamaru, he could have almost mistaken the young man for a harmless office worker, but the man languidly stretched in front of him was anything but harmless.

Shikamaru yawned loudly before lazily attempting conversation. "Tell me you're not here with a job for me. Gorou could quit fucking overworking me once in awhile."

Asuma snorted. "You won't have to worry about that anymore."

His eyes opened slowly, revealing the dark pools that reflected darkly back at Asuma.

"He's dead." Asuma stated it as though it were something as trivial as the weather.

If Shikamaru's facial features changed at all, it was only fractionally.

"Who did the geezer in?" He asked, slightly interested.

Asuma shrugged. "Hiro and Ken were guarding him last night. Apparently, they were doing a pretty shitty job since they let him get killed." He remarked.

"Was he with anyone?"

Asuma tapped his finger on the chair's metal frame. "Well, now that I think about it..." His voice trailed.

"Hmm?" Shikamaru leaned forward, releasing his head from its position on the wall.

"Gorou said something about going to meet that woman he's been seeing."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes. "Which one? There's at least ten right now."

"Ayumi." Asuma replied.

"Ah." Shikamaru said. He'd never seen her himself, but from the way the Gorou continually spoke about her, Shikamaru could tell he'd taken a severe liking to her over the past few months.

"Yeah. He seemed to be really fond of her. From what Hiro and Ken said, she was very attractive."

Shikamaru took in the information quietly. Gorou's death wasn't something he was distraught over. He was more concerned about the responsibility that had abruptly fallen on him.

After losing both parents in his mid teens, Nara Shikamaru had been thrown into an unforgiving world to fend for himself. Alone, penniless, and too indolent to keep a job, Shikamaru resorted to his instincts for survival. He wasn't exceedingly blessed, but he used what he **did **have. And he possessed just what he needed to survive: intelligence and power.

Word quickly spread in the underground of a young shadow manipulator whose intellect matched his physical strength and soon, Shikamaru became a person of interest. His ability to wield shadows was not only unique but also devastatingly effective.

Finally, he was approached by Takero Gorou, a small time underground loan shark. Apparently, Gorou wanted Shikamaru badly; so much that he'd traveled from Suna to Konoha just to ensure he would obtain Shikamaru first.

"_I'll make you into something big kid. With your strength and smarts, you'll rule the shadows right along with me."_ Gorou had said when he approached him under the naked glow of the streetlamp that wintry night in Konoha.

Shikamaru could still remember the way his breath crystallized as he watched each movement Gorou made, sizing up his offer. His answer had been simple, yet honest.

"_Big?" He shook his head. "I don't want to be big." He said, his eyes gleaming under the pale streetlamps while a set smirk settled on his lips. "Rule the shadows?" He murmured disbelievingly. Again he shook his head. Under the streaming moonlight, he stretched out arm and brought forth the dark tendrils that slowly crept up under Gorou. The man shuddered as Shikamaru's eyes bore straight into his own. "Remember this," his voice lowered, "I__** am**__ the shadows."_

Now, four years after that cold night, he'd become Gorou's right hand man. Gorou always treated Shikamaru differently, like a special possession, and Shikamaru wondered why.

Initially, Shikamaru wasn't sure why Gorou had taken such a liking to him. Just exactly why had Gorou chosen _him_? After being taken in, it occurred to him. Gorou had taken him off the streets, put clothes on his back, and given food to eat not because he was kind hearted, but because he was Gorou's guarantee. It wasn't Shikamaru that Gorou saw, but what Shikamaru could do; what Shikamaru could make _him_. The man had taken him in as a tool to wield as he wished.

Regardless, Shikamaru left Konoha and never looked back. He figured if Gorou was going to use him; he'd also use Gorou. And steadily, Gorou, once a fledgling loan shark barely getting by, rode the crest of Shikamaru's strength and rose higher. When it came time for people to pay back their exorbitant loan, Shikamaru would go collect. Many could not pay the money back, and under Gorou's command, he wielded his strength. Shikamaru had repossessed property, threatened people, and broken families, but in this business, that was an everyday occurrence.

Inwardly, he felt for those whose lives he made more miserable with each passing day, but to do his job, he pushed his conscience further into the darkness he controlled.

After awhile, Gorou wasn't just issuing loans. Money surged in, allowing the man to expand into other shady ventures. He began making friends with higher dealers in the shadows, and soon enough, Gorou had dived head first into selling information.

Though he fought for Gorou, Shikamaru detested it. As a naïve teenager, he thought he was aware of the seedy entrails of the underworld, but after hearing the pleading cries of people begging for just one more day on their loan and seeing the havoc he and Gorou's henchmen had wreaked on the lives of innocent people, Shikamaru _truly_ realized what it meant to work in the shadows.

And all for what? Money? Power? Prestige? It was ridiculous. But he endured it. Shikamaru never voiced his thoughts to anyone but Asuma. Betrayal was equivalent to suicide in this business. Despite the amount of power one possessed, it was just something you didn't do. Even if you managed to escape **your** boss, there were plenty of other people willing to take you out.

And yet, for some, there was an allure to this lifestyle. The money filled, adrenaline saturated, precarious life was often grossly over glamorized to those who knew nothing of it. He lived this life, not because he desired it, but merely out of necessity; a practicality of sorts.

Granted, after doing this for four years, he had more money than he knew what to do with. However, it all came at a very high price. Those in the shadows woke every morning, wondering if today would be their last. Within the shrouds of darkness that swathed the underground, life was expendable.

Gorou was now a prime example of that. He'd lived the high life for a short period of time, but no amount of money could bring him back now.

Shikamaru's eyes trailed across the small space that posed as Gorou's faux office. Strangely enough, it was his now. Everything Gorou owned was now his.

Although he was the last to join Gorou's small faction, Shikamaru had assumed the role of "favorite." Shikamaru expected Asuma, the older man who'd been with Gorou the longest, to be the next boss, but Gorou had chosen Shikamaru instead. While Shikamaru wasn't entirely fond of Gorou, Asuma was the closest thing Shikamaru had to a family. Though he worked in the shadows, Asuma disliked everything about it. Shikamaru admired Asuma's realistic view on life and even if he never verbalized it, Shikamaru knew he could trust Asuma with anything.

But, Gorou had already made it clear to everyone else under him who was next in line if anything should happen to him. Shikamaru scoffed when Gorou said it, dismissing the thought.

But it had happened. Gorou was dead.

Realization dawned upon him, its recoil hitting him like a skillfully aimed punch.

"Fuck." His voice caught in his throat. It was _really_ all his now. Abruptly sitting up, Shikamaru kicked his legs off the table, the chair squeaking stridently as he leaned back.

"Asuma." He called the older man.

Asuma turned only to observe the deepening expression on Shikamaru's face.

"I'm the fucking head of this fucking group now..." Shikamaru tone was subdued. His sentence a cross between a statement and a question while his voice strained against the building pressure in is chest. An uncomfortably warmth suddenly permeated his mouth, thoughts whirling in his mind as he forced it to calm down and form coherent thoughts.

He needed to get out. He needed to think.

Stiffly rising from the table, he pushed the chair against the wall and stepped around the table.

"I'm going to get a drink. I'll be back later." Shikamaru said.

"Sure thing...boss." Asuma's voice was low, his eyes carefully gauged Shikamaru's reaction.

Shikamaru made no effort to hide the darkened look that colored his face as he strode toward the exit and disappeared behind the door's frosted glass.

**--**

Cradling the delicate crystal in her slender fingers, Temari absentmindedly ran her thumb along the intricate etching on the wine glass' stem. The deep maroon smoothly circled the inside of the glass while its warm aroma carefully made its scent distinct yet discreet while melding with the other scents that wafted throughout the bar.

After arriving home the night before, she'd slept in until the sun glared through her windows and even pricked through the pillow she'd thrown across her face, hoping to thwart the light from entering her eyes. She'd taken the day off and used it to catch up on whatever needed to be done in her apartment. Outside of her job, she led an average life. Even _she_ did laundry like normal people. But after being home all day, she yearned to escape its confining walls and thus, she found solace in the bar not too far from her apartment.

The bulbous upper portion of the glass rested calmly in her palm as her lips met the rim, her tongue savoring the alcohol's rich flavor. It had been a good day off, a bit quick, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Temari set her drink down just before dark haired man brushed in next to her. Lazily, he seated himself on a barstool next to her.

"What can I get for you mister?" The good-natured bartender asked as he arranged the wineglasses overhead.

Crossing his arms on the bar, the man shrugged. "Whatever you feel like. Nothing too troublesome, preferably on the rocks."

Temari quietly listened in while sipping her drink. The rich timbre of his voice was smooth and low, yet laced with the slightest bit of drawl. She could nearly feel the muted resonance of his chest in hers.

The bartender smiled. "I wish all customers were like you."

A small smile tugged on his lips. "I'm easy to please."

Casually, Temari turned her head, pretending to be reading the labels on bottles of alcohol. Her eyes, drifting along the crisp, yellowing edges of labels, carefully darted between scanning bottles and studying the man next to her.

He was dressed casually, clad in jeans and an olive green t-shirt. Unknowingly, her eyes trailed up his sides and lingered on the lean muscles that banded his arms. Dark eyes, partially obscured by sinfully thick chocolate locks, shone lightly under the muted lighting. The right corner of his smooth lips was slightly turned down, completing his laid-back look.

On the surface, his expression almost appeared to be lazy, but Temari noted the passive strength his eyes held beneath the heavy lashes that shaded over them.

The bartender returned with the man's drink and slid a small glass tumbler on a coaster his way.

"More wine for you Temari-san?" The bartender asked, pointing to her drained glass.

"Yes." She replied, handing the glass back to him.

Shikamaru silently noticed the attractive woman next to him as he nonchalantly drank from his glass. So, her name was Temari. At least that was what the bartender had addressed her by. She'd been watching him for some reason. She seemed harmless enough, but his instincts told him otherwise.

She'd barely spoken, but her voice, low and sultry, had saturated the one word she'd said. Making conversation with strangers was troublesome, but for some reason, this woman had somehow peaked his interest.

"Pretty women shouldn't drink alone." He remarked quietly, as she received her refilled wineglass.

"Oh?" She replied as a smirk settled on her face, her voice a hushed murmur among the general din.

Shikamaru nodded. "Typically, most women are toting some man along with them."

"I'm not like most women." She said shrugging, her aquamarine eyes shimmering dangerously.

He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a shallow vibrating in his jeans. His hand deftly slid into his pockets and retrieved the buzzing phone before flipping it open.

"Yeah?" He answered lazily into the receiver.

"It's Asuma. Ken stepped in right after you left. He told me what happened last night, and he thinks Gorou's lady friend might have had something to do with his untimely death."

"Really..." Shikamaru's voice trailed. He wasn't in the mood to go back to the office right now.

"I'm looking stuff up on her now, but I'm not finding too much. Whatever she's doing, she has something to hide."

"Do I need to come back now?

"Yes. Hiro's on his way too. We need to discuss how things are going continue, now that Gorou's dead." Asuma stated firmly.

"Fine." Shikamaru replied defeated. "I'll see you in about fifteen minutes then." Flipping the phone shut, he sighed. Addressing the current state of affairs was the last thing he wanted to do. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and quickly downed the rest of his drink.

Pulling out his wallet, he paid for the drink and tipped the bartender. Shikamaru was about to leave when he turned and faced Temari.

"Don't drink alone next time pretty woman." He said before sliding off the barstool and heading toward the exit.

Temari chuckled darkly. What a strange man.


	3. Offer

Disclaimer: It's all to Kishimoto_san's

Chapter 3

**Offer**

Shikamaru reluctantly pushed the door knob open and entered the office. Asuma, still seated in the unsound folding chair from before, sat across from Ken and Hiro who were seated on the couch that was pushed against the wall. Ken and Hiro both stood as Shikamaru entered.

"Boss we..." Hiro began.

Shikamaru waved him off. "Sit down. We'll get this all figured out." His glance was casual, his tone laced with the relaxed attitude that typified him. Pulling the leather office chair from behind the desk, Shikamaru sank down and sighed.

"All right, now that everyone is here," Asuma gestured toward the three other men, because Gorou is no longer with us, there's obviously going to be a shift in command." He glanced at Shikamaru.

Leaned back in the couch, Ken nodded slightly.

"Business is will continue, with Shikamaru as head." The older man stated, his tone daring anyone to contradict him."

A thick silence settled in the room as Asuma finished his words. Shikamaru's mind drifted as he tapped the desk with his finger in time with the methodic tick of the clock on the opposite wall. He was still a slightly dazed. He tried his best to avoid unnecessary things, but this was something even _he_ could not escape.

"What happened last night?" The shadow wielder's voice manner was calm and held no intimation of reproof.

Ken raked a calloused hand through his raven hair. "Ayumi came, and after a few minutes he left with her."

"Where to?" Shikamaru questioned once more.

"The second floor."

Shikamaru glanced at the man quizzically.

"We were in the Satin last night." Said Hiro, noticing Shikamaru's puzzled face.

Shikamaru nodded in acknowledgement. Gorou had loaned Satin's owner a substantial amount of money when it appeared as though the establishment might go belly up. Since then, the owner had allowed Gorou to gallivant through the club as he pleased; even permitting Gorou access to the private rooms on the club's second floor.

"Go on."

"We waited about two and a half hours before Ken said we should go check up on Gorou."

"Is there any particular reason you waited so long?" Shikamaru asked, a new found pencil now twirling in his fingers.

"We didn't want to disturb him. With the looks he was giving Ayumi, it looked like he wasgoing to be _busy_ with her for awhile." Hiro replied.

"Then what happened?" Shikamaru solicited more answers. Apparently, there was more to Ayumi than met the eye.

"Well, we went upstairs and knocked on the door. I just had this bad feeling, but we entered anyway." Hiro went on. "And there he was, as stiff as a board lying in a pool of blood on the floor."

"And Ayumi was gone." What subtle intonation Shikamaru held in his voice fell flat, resulting in a statement rather than a question.

Ken nodded while Hiro crossed his arms decisively.

Tilting his chair back, Shikamaru, deep in thought, unconsciously cupped a palm over his mouth. Asuma noticed Shikamaru's position and motioned for Hiro and Ken.

"You two are dismissed for now; lie low for the time being. Once it gets around that Gorou's dead, everyone will try to move in on our turf. You know someone will try to start something to take us down. They're probably under the impression that we'll be easy to take over right now, but that's definitely not the case." Asuma waved them out.

The two men nodded before exiting the room.

He turned his attention back to Shikamaru once Hiro and Ken were gone. Asuma wondered what possibilities were rocketing through the younger man's mind. Walking toward the filing cabinet, he retrieved a large brown envelope, the contents outlining the packages exterior.

"Our Ayumi is quite the actress." Asuma said, dropping the envelope on the table in front of Shikamaru. "She's not just a pretty face. She's a pretty face that's been working undercover."

Shikamaru opened the envelope, dumping its contents out on table. Thumbing through the information, a dark, grainy picture slipped out from between the papers. Almost instantly, a flash of gold caught his eye. He brought the dim photo closer, examining the woman in dark colored clothing that appeared to be exiting a building. Even in the dark, the honeyed locks that tumbled over her shoulders were inescapable.

"That's our girl." Asuma pointed to the woman.

A knowing smile curved up Shikamaru's lips.

"Find this woman for me. I've got business with her." Shikamaru said in an unusually clipped tone.

Asuma raised an eyebrow. "What's the rush?"

The smile on Shikamaru's face coalesced into something between a grin and a smirk.

"Just can't wait to see you again, _pretty woman_." Shikamaru murmured as he fingered the picture.

Pen in hand, Temari busily worked through the papers that had piled up in the office over the past few weeks. Her job was all fun and games until it came to the seemingly unending forms and files that had to be filled out after each mission she undertook. Setting her pen on the table, she sighed quietly.

Looking up from her paperwork, she saw Kankurou enter the room.

"Look, it's my favorite assassin." He teased. "Just the person I wanted to see." Kankurou placed a conspicuously large manila folder in front of her. **Confidential** was stamped out ominously in bloody red against the beige folder.

Temari rolled her eyes. "If that's more paperwork, I promise you Kankurou I'll shove it so far down your throat it'll end up in your ass." Teal orbs flashed warningly at him.

Kankurou chuckled darkly. "And people wonder why you're an assassin..." Leaning against the edge of the desk, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "It's more information on the Gorou group." His tone was serious. "I wish everyone had their work ethic." He said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"They're back at it without Gorou?"

Kankurou nodded. "They've got a new leader."

"Already?" Temari was surprised. Even in the highly efficient world of organized crime, new bosses weren't chosen so quickly. It had only been a little over a week since she'd killed Gorou.

"It seems Gorou already had a successor he'd picked out." Kankurou nudged the folder. "All the information you need is in there. Have fun on your new job."

"What about Gaara?"

"We already spoke about it. He wants you to take it over. You know how long we've been trying to nail this group." Kankurou's frustrated sigh filled the room. "I thought we'd closed this case for good but apparently not."

Tucking a stray lock behind her ear, Temari opened the folder. She knew this was one of their more important cases. Gorou had connections to almost everyone in underworld.

"You know that bastard was illegally selling weapons too?" Kankurou's brow furrowed as he left the large desk and sank into a leather couch. "I'm telling you Temari, there was more to this guy than we knew initially. I called in a few favors from Lee down in the police archives department and did some more research on everything for you."

"Thanks Kankurou." She smiled softly. "What have you heard on the new boss?" She asked while straightening papers on the desk.

"Not too much. He's a young guy, but he's being taken pretty seriously. Before his "promotion," he was second in command. Apparently, Gorou picked him off the street when he was teenager."

"Picked him off the street? Why would he single out him specifically?" Temari asked, browsing through the folder's contents.

"Don't get me wrong; Gorou wasn't diversifying into philanthropy." Kankurou snorted. "When Gorou was still just a small time dealer, he heard about Shikamaru. The guy's power is so rare, I'd never even heard of it."

"What is it?"

"He's a shadow manipulator."

"How appropriate." Temari murmured, sarcasm marring her tone.

"He could kill someone without even touching them. He's the perfect weapon." Kankurou mused aloud.

"This will definitely be interesting." Teal eyes flickered with careful excitement as she shut the folder. "I'll look at this more closely at home."

Kankurou eyed his older sister's motivated expression. "Be careful on this one Temari. This guy is dangerous."

The right corner of Temari's full lips turned down slightly. "They're all dangerous." She replied cynically.

His reply was a look of not so subtle look of contempt.

"Don't worry Kankurou." She replied with casual dismissal, her smooth contralto emitting all confidence. "I've yet to meet a bastard I couldn't take down."

"I know; I'm just reminding you. These guys play for keeps." He reminded her once more.

Temari had taken care of him and Gaara in the absence of their parents. He trusted his sister's abilities, but never once forgot how dangerous of a job she worked. Temari, always fierce, never took crap from anyone. Ever. But it was only natural for him to be concerned at times. Her ability to work under pressure assisted her exponentially, but even one mistake could be devastating.

"Have you got a visual on him?" Temari asked, curiosity leaking and mingling with coolness of her voice.

Kankurou shook his head. "Not yet. Shikamaru has kept himself pretty well hidden; the silent but deadly type apparently."

"We'll see about that."

"I'll get a picture for you A.S.A.P."

"Thanks."

"By the way, is Gaara in?" Kankurou jerked his large thumb in the direction his younger brother's office.

"He's been out for awhile. Last time I saw him was around one-ish this afternoon, and now it's," Temari's eyes flickered to her wristwatch, "six forty five."

"I guess he won't be back for the rest of the day then..." Kankurou sighed.

Straightening the last of the papers, Temari scooted out of the chair and stretched. "When you talk to Gaara, tell him we need better chairs in here." Temari said, massaging her sore back.

"Will do." Kankurou smirked. "It's coming out of your paycheck anyway."

Temari stuck her tongue at him. "I'm heading off for the day."

"Sure, see you tomorrow then." He waved. "Don't talk to strange men on the way home, all right?" He teased as she prepared to leave.

The familiar smirk she reserved specially for Kankurou instinctively set on her lips.

Menacingly brandishing the folder she'd dutifully placed under her arm, she smacked Kankurou with a little extra force on her way out.

"Bye to you too." Was Kankurou's defensive response.

Temari brushed straying tendrils out of her eyes as the wind playfully swept the blonde locks in every direction except for where she wished them to be. Her pace was unhurried as she made her way home under the evening sky. She stopped at an intersection, patiently waiting at the pedestrian crossing until the glowing green figure bid her safe passage across the busy Suna street. Her hand inconspicuously rested on the bag that was casually slung over her shoulder as it harmlessly rested at her hip. The folder Kankurou had given her was now safely stowed away in the courier bag. Holding the bag closely, she quietly wished the sign would quickly change. Pedestrian crossings like this were one of her least favorite things to deal with.

The man next to her smelled strongly of cigarettes, somewhere behind her, a child continued to wail desperately despite his mother's attempts to placate him, and in front of her, a business man's intense cologne menacingly wafted her way, pricking her eyes and veiling her lungs. In some way or form, everyone encroached on her personal space. The hairs on her neck stood as she continued waiting. Though she was surrounded by people, she could have sworn she felt someone's eyes watching her.

Diverting her attention, Temari watched the darkening canopy above. The last signs of the fleeting cobalt that had previously engulfed the sky had faded, giving way to smoky mauves set against burnt oranges. Finally, the green man appeared and Temari, jostling against business men and young mothers, made her way across the street.

Feathery clouds rolled along the smoldering pink undertones that bled into sky as Temari continued toward her apartment. Turning a corner, she quickened her pace. Her hand remained dutifully on the bag, guarding its contents. The mob that enveloped her was now gone, but her awareness of the presence at the crosswalk had not decreased. She walked slowly, listening to all footsteps other than her own.

Guiding her focus, Temari channeled out any unnecessary distractions. She saw her apartment off in the distance, but deliberately walked passed it. Soon enough, she heard the brusque footsteps that echoed her own. Someone was definitely following her.

Her fingers firmly clutched her bag's shoulder strap as she continued on, leading her pursuer farther than she'd planned to go. Dusk had withered away; robbing the sky of the sun's remaining rays while replacing clouds with starry companions that flickered against their dim backdrop.

Another handful of minutes passed as she kept on. Her footsteps, sure and steady, echoed softly in the darkened streets until she had confidently lured the person far away enough from the general residential and business areas in the city. Temari wasn't sure if she would need to use force with her pursuer, but at least their confrontation would be out of spectators. The last thing she needed were nosy people to compromise the situation.

From the looks of things, she had now entered downtown Suna. The scenery had changed from offices to the orderly disarray of desolate alleys only to be kept company by the graffiti that decorated their walls.

Temari gradually began slowing her steps until she straddled the entrance of an alleyway. She knew had no weapons on her, but she'd make do somehow. With her back to him, she paused. Her tracker hesitated slightly before Temari heard the muffled sound of his steps as he approached her.

She looked down, studying his movements from his shadow. His arm stretched out to touch her, but Temari reacted before he knew what had happened.

Reaching behind her, she forcefully took hold of his arm and spun the man in front of her. She quickly swept her leg under his, hoping to force him to his knees. Her pursuer caught her action and tangled his legs in hers, sending the pair to the ground.

"I just want to talk to you Ayumi!" The authoritative voice was set as he attempted untangling himself from her.

"What do you want from me?" Her voice was low and guarded at the mention of her alias.

"Let me go first."

Hastily, she released him, as she carefully studied his face. Beneath the filmy moonlight, she noticed the thick facial hair outlined his face. He was older but not by too much. His dark eyes, tired yet content, matched the man's spiky dark hair.

"My name is Asuma. I work for Gorou."

"Gorou..." She repeated the name softly.

"Well, I _worked_ for Gorou."

"What do you want?"

"Our new boss, Shikamaru, has taken in interest in you, and he wants to meet with you."

Temari unconsciously clutched the bag closer. This was too good to be true. This _couldn't _true.

"He asked you to track me down?"

Asuma shrugged. "Something like that. Gorou was the only one in constant contact with you, and now he's dead."

Temari quickly weighed her options.

"Why does he want to see me?"

"He'll tell you all of his reasons when you see him."

"When?"

"Two days from now at the Satin nightclub."

"How should I approach him?"

"Don't worry. We'll find you when you show up." Asuma replied, dusting himself off. He sent her a farewell glance before he began walking away.

She watched his burly figure disappear into the night; all while marveling at the sheer irony of situation. Kankurou's teasing comment about not meeting with strange men somehow strayed back to her. She certainly had a story for him.


	4. Games

**A/N:** Gah, sorry for such a long wait everyone. I've been busy, busy, busy lately. I had a little rut in my muse for awhile, but I forced myself to sit down and I finally got myself back on track. Anyway, even though it's a bit of a set up chapter, I still hope everyone enjoys it! Much love to my beta Nadeshiko Nara. She's so fast! She beta's the chapter so fast, smoke is still coming off the copy, hahah.

**Chapter 4**

**Games**

Temari slowly traced a finger along the smooth contour of the decanter that held her drink. A quiet hum mingled with the warm scent of alcohol was draped throughout the nightclub. Two days had passed, and true to her word, she'd shown up at Satin. She was unaware of how Asuma would find her, but she was sure he would.

"Can you tell me what time it is?" She asked, motioning for the bartender.

The man quickly glanced down at his wristwatch. "It's 10:45p.m. Miss."

"Thank you." Temari replied quietly, her thoughts already on other things. Unsure of the exact time to come, she'd arrived around twenty minutes ago. Her eyes carefully scanned around the room; if possible she wanted to spot Asuma before he found her. Though she was relatively familiar with Satin, being completely aware of one's surroundings was vital in a situation like this. Unaware of Shikamaru's appearance, she knew was at a bit of a disadvantage.

Wordlessly, she observed the other denizens scattered around the room's perimeter, lounged in plush leather booths with guards inconspicuously stationed by them. Temari picked out a few familiar faces; she recognized them as some of the lower ranking crime bosses from the files in the office. She made a mental note to inform Gaara about this place.

She sighed quietly and continued looking. What would the ever mysterious Shikamaru look like? Kankurou had described him as young, but Temari was still unable to correctly picture anyone but balding, rotund men working in this type of business. The younger able-bodied men were usually kept as bodyguards or sacrificed if necessary. Typically, it took years before one could reach a respectable status as a gang boss, resulting in all older men as true crime heads.

The deep burgundy liquid in her glass clearly mirrored the faint apprehension folded away behind coolness in her teal eyes. She mentally berated herself. Though calm, she could feel an uncomfortable prick in her lower abdomen. Brushing it off, Temari carefully swirled the alcohol around in her cup and gently sipped the remainder of the liquid.

She'd just finished the cup when her body tensed as she felt a presence next to her. Unconsciously, her grip tightened dangerously around the cup.

"Ayumi." The familiar baritone flowed into her ear.

Temari turned slightly, allowing her to view the person from the corner of her eye.

"Asuma." Her reply was calm, yet cautious.

"I'm glad you decided to take me up on my offer."

A cunning smile turned up the corners of Temari's full lips. "Wouldn't it be Shikamaru's offer, Asuma?" She murmured, her voice laced with a cheeky slyness.

The dark-haired men chuckled. "Yes, I believe you're right." He mused as a calloused finger ran through the thick, chocolate that outlined his angular jaw. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long."

She shook her head. "Just enough time to finish one drink." Temari answered as a calm yet dangerous smile played on her lips.

"Well then, shall we go? Asuma motioned in the general direction away from the bar and into the Satin's large seating area.

"Of course." Temari quickly reached into her purse and tipped the bartender.

Asuma waited patiently as she carefully slid down from the barstool and stood next to him. She brushed her honey locks over her shoulder as she followed him, her eyes intent on locating Shikamaru.

The pair weaved passed several tables, all of them occupied by either slick, silver haired or balding men enveloped with at least a trio of women half their age. Temari was slightly frustrated. Just exactly _where_ was this man?

Asuma continued leading her farther into a less inhabited corner of the lounge, free from the raucous laughter of the other liquored up inhabitants. Finally, he stopped in front of a circular booth wrapped in several layers of plush crimson satin that sat illuminated by the room's warm and muted lighting. He stepped away from Temari and swept his arm in front of them, beckoning her to come closer.

Temari stood next to him, anxious to see the man Gorou had chosen to be his successor.

Shikamaru was seated near the edge of the booth; his body turned away, head drooping slightly.

Asuma cleared his throat quietly. "Shikamaru, our guest has arrived."

He stirred slightly, his body refusing to surrenderits casual position. Turning his head to the side, Shikamaru brought his face into view.

Temari's breath caught in her throat. He closely resembled the man she'd secretly dubbed "strange" at the bar last week.

Deep pools of gleaming bistre countered her aquamarine ones as he took in her appearance, while carefully running a hand through the full chocolate crown that shadowed over his eyes.

Temari kept her expression impassive, hoping no one had caught her moment of surprise. She was almost sure this the man she'd encountered in the bar, yet there was something completely different about him tonight. The slightly playful glance she'd received from him the other night had been replaced with a calm gaze. Unlike the other men she'd seen that night, she noticed Shikamaru had chosen to skip out on the full suit in favor of chestnut colored dress pants coupled with a deep blue collared shirt. He'd also chosen to leave the two topmost buttons of his shirt undone in the absence of his tie.

"Shikamaru" Asuma motioned toward Temari, "the lovely Ayumi."

Shikamaru smiled coolly. "Please join me Ayumi-san." He answered, sliding over in the booth.

Temari left Asuma's side and fluidly swept in next to Shikamaru.

Shikamaru nodded to Asuma. "Thank you Asuma."

"I'm going to the bar; do you want something to drink?" The older man questioned.

"The usual." Shikamaru replied, his tone slightly bored.

Asuma nodded, a knowing expression spreading across his face.

"Anything for you Ayumi?" Asuma politely questioned.

Temari shook her head.

The pair watched the dark haired man disappear within the confines of Satin as he advanced toward his destination.

Shikamaru shifted comfortably, his well-toned arms resting on the back of the booth.

"You look very lovely tonight Ayumi."

Temari supplied her one of her most typical smiles for clients. "Thank you." The onyx strapless number she'd chosen to wear tonight had always been popular.

"You must be wondering why sent for you." He began slowly, the rich timbre of his smooth voice playing carefully in her ears.

"Yes, I was." She replied, her own silky contralto met an even volume with his tone

Shikamaru contained the smile that threatened his lips. He'd only been with her a few minutes, but in that time he'd observed the subtle flash of silver carefully flickering beneath the overwhelming aquamarine sea that surveyed him. He'd watched the way she moved, noting how her movements were calculated yet seamless, and her appearance nothing less than striking. This woman was dangerous.

Before continuing, Shikamaru signaled toward of the many servers scurrying around the vicinity, trying their best to calm liquored up clients and to appease sober ones.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to drink, _Temari-san_?" Shikamaru purposely lowered his voice, but kept it loud enough to make sure she heard.

The welcoming smile on Temari's face stiffened. Brushing her shimmering gold over her shoulder, she played the ignorant card.

"Temari-san?" She questioned lightly. Temari forcefully calmed herself as her mind began whirling. How could he have known her true name? What else did he know? Temari pushed her fears aside for a moment. She would not allow herself to be baited by him.

"Let's not play games Temari. I know better than to play with someone as dangerous as you." Shikamaru murmured.

"Dangerous?" Temari laughed quietly. "Whatever do you mean?"

Now it was Shikamaru's turn to laugh. "You're one of the most humble assassins I've ever met."

Temari's smile slowly trickled away into a knowing smirk. This one certainly knew too much. She would have to do away with him tonight.

"I see you've done your homework." She commented.

"Of course. I wouldn't want to end up like Gorou, an idiot who flirted with the angel of death."

"Are you sure about that?" She replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes danced beneath the muted light. "It's not in my policy to fight women. Try anything and you can consider your career as an assassin as good as done."

"And why is that?" Her voice was low as she baited him, intrigued he'd even come this far.

"Asuma has all of your information." He answered, his voice laced with casual dismissal. "Even if you _did_ kill me, your information would be in the hands of every crime boss in Suna before tomorrow morning."

Temari laughed darkly. "Is that why you called me here? To blackmail me?"

Shikamaru merely shook his head. "I want to make a deal with you."

"I don't cut deals with criminals." Her reply was a terse knife that sliced through him.

"Really now?" Shikamaru questioned, his voice an ever unnerving calm drawl. "Even if it gave you direct access to every crime boss in Suna's underworld?"

Shikamaru watched as she cautiously gazed at him. Her teal irises were hard as she unconsciously drew her lower lip in.

Inwardly, Temari shook her head. This man was bluffing, albeit extremely well, but he _had_ to be bluffing.

"You know I'm not stupid. What kind of deal would only be in my benefit?"

"You did not let me finish." Shikamaru reprimanded her. "This deal is not only in your benefit."

Just as Shikamaru had finished his sentence, Asuma appeared with two decanters in his hand. He seated himself on the opposite edge of the curved booth and slid one of the drinks Shikamaru's way.

Eyes still on Temari, Shikamaru took the cup and sipped away at the russet liquid.

"I want you to work with me. You'll do what you're doing now, only as _my_ escort."

Temari remained pokerfaced as she listened to him.

"As the new head, I inherited all of Gorou's friends _and _enemies. Trust is not something easily acquired in the shadows. Other crime bosses and I are only friends when our relationship is to their maximized benefit."

"So? You want me to kill them for you?" She questioned back.

"No, I just want you to pump them for information. You have those skills." Shikamaru answered quietly. "There are things I want to change in this business." His voice trailed. "I'm not exactly trusted by all the bosses but they'll surely talk to you."

"And in exchange?"

"You'll be allowed to report the information you've acquired while working with me. I don't care if you take those other corrupted leaders out."

"What if I just turn in your secrets instead?" Temari asked, still unconvinced that those were his _true_ intentions. "What if I just kill you?"

"You won't." His reply was confident.

Temari was intrigued. This man was asking for her assistance at what she considered a big time risk. Was he just blissfully stupid or did he have some other things planned? She wanted to know more. This man, who was undoubtedly assured that his life and dealings were safe with he,r confounded her to no end. She knew he was no novice to the underworld, and neither was she, so just why would he allow her to witness these things?

The idea of a trap vaguely occurred to her. His entire proposition could be an elaborate set up to get rid of her, but she considered all the things he was telling her to be too vague for her to form a proper conclusion at the moment. Though things were a bit sketchy at the moment, Temari knew accepting his proposal would be an intense help to Gaara and Kankurou. This deal would allow her to collect hard evidence against many of Suna's crime lords.

Not only would it an aid her brothers, but Temari also wanted to find out the secret behind Shikamaru's unnerving confidence. The composed looks he gave her **definitely** rubbed her the wrong way. What was it that made himso _sure_ his plans would go along according to schedule? Maybe he underestimated what she truly was.

Shikamaru mutely downed his drink as he watched Temari's silent reflection. Something about this woman interested him. He noted the quiet between them as a silent testament to her unspoken deliberation. She was considering all the aspects of his offer.

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Temari was one with many lives. Shikamaru was presenting a golden opportunity, too bad he'd chosen her to offer it to. She would take what she needed from him; she'd soak up every last bit of information from him and his cohorts. Temari knew she would have to do it quickly though. This handsome, dark haired man was equally as dangerous as she was. How he'd acquired her personal files was still beyond her, and her knowing that he could release her private information at his own whim was still a severe threat against her. Agreeing to help him now would be a temporary solution, but in the end, she would need to silence him and his subordinates permanently.

"Have you decided?" Shikamaru's smooth voice sliced through the silence like a piping hot knife through butter.

"Yes." Her own smooth contralto answered back.

"And your answer?"

"I'll assist you." Temari answered quietly, a dangerous smile gracing her lips.

He returned her smile with a subtle smirk. "I look forward to our partnership Temari."

"Of course." She replied as she carefully rose from the booth.

"I'd like to iron out the details with you later; Asuma will contact you again in the near future." Shikamaru said as he too slid from the booth. He handed her a slip of paper with an address neatly noted down on two lines. "This is our main office location. "

Temari took the paper from him and carefully slipped it in her purse. "Until next time then." She answered as she waved them off while navigating through maze of tables with ease.

"You're really sure about this Shikamaru?" Asuma questioned from his position across from him. "You _really_ want to trust her? She's a damned hired killer for heaven's sake."

"Don't worry Asuma. Even if she does kill me, at least I'll be out of this God forsaken crime business." Shikamaru replied, making light of the older man's worries.

Asuma did nothing to veil his slight umbrage. "Always the damn optimist aren't you?"

"Something like that." Shikamaru replied, leaning back in the plush booth. "Something like that..."

Temari did her best to hail a cab and quickly as possible and send it on its way at twice the legal speed limit towards the capital building. Her deft fingers quickly punched in Gaara's number on her phone. It rang four times before going to his answering machine. She dialed again, her free hand impatiently drumming a steady staccato on the cab's tepid window. This time a tired sounding Gaara picked up after the third ring.

"Hello?" His voice was moody, his eyes probably bleary from the volume of the day's work.

"Where are you?" She demanded, her voice filled with rushed urgency.

"I just left the capital. I'm on my way home."

"Ok good. Go straight to your apartment; I'll meet up with you there, and tell Kankurou to come too." Temari said as she lightly tapped the driver on the shoulder and redirected his course in the direction of Gaara's apartment.

"Hey calm down. What's the rush Temari?" Her crimson haired younger brother asked, puzzled at the hurried edge in his sister's voice. This type of rushed behavior was definitely out of character for his typically level-headed sister.

"It's about Shikamaru. I've got a large development in the case; something extremely big." Temari lowered her voice, wary of the taxi driver's listening ears.

"A development? What do you mean?"

Temari could hear the quiet hum of Gaara accelerating in his car. "I met with him tonight. That's all I can say now. I'll tell you more when I get there."

Gaara caught his sister's drift. She didn't exactly want the cab driver aware of their private matters. "All right, I'll see you in about fifteen minutes then." Clicking the end button on his phone, Gaara, anxious to hear what Temari had to say, dexterously punched in Kankurou's number as he sped home.

Temari emerged from Gaara's bathroom clad in one of his shirts and a pair of her own shorts. She'd learned the hard way that sleeping in the dresses she wore to see her clients was an atrocity no one deserved to experience. Since then, she'd always kept clothing at her brother's apartments just in case they ended up working late, and she was too tired to retire to her own home for the night, or for whatever other reason that she might end up staying the night at their apartment.

Currently, Kankurou was stretched across Gaara's black leather sofa. He appeared to be somewhat miffed at being pulled into a late night meeting, but this was one of those things that were certainly beyond his control.

Gaara sat in a barstool with his arms crossed. "All right, what have you got for us?"

Temari pushed Kankurou over and sat next to him on the large sofa. She hugged the pillow she'd swiped from Gaara's room on her way back from the bathroom.

"Two days ago, Shikamaru sent someone out for me."

"Why didn't you mention anything to us?" Gaara tone was piqued; surprised his sister hadn't mentioned something that important.

"Was it an attack?" Kankurou's interest perked slightly.

Temari shook her head. "I thought it was, but he was just Shikamaru's messenger. He approached me under the impression that I was Ayumi."

"Just a messenger? Not much of a threat then." Kankurou cut in as he stifled a yawn.

"No, it looks like Asuma and Shikamaru are pretty close. I'd dare say he holds all of Shikamaru's trust." Temari mused aloud. "Anyway, Asuma contacted me saying Shikamaru wanted to meet with me today."

"And you did." Gaara finished for her.

"Yes, I did. "

"Temari, do you know how dangerous what you did was? What if it were an ambush? You can't just go head on into something like that without consulting us first." Gaara reprimanded her moodily.

"I can take care of myself Gaara." Her teal irises flashed hotly into his cool jade ones as Temari once again reminded her brother that she was far from helpless.

"What would you have done in an ambush situation? No matter how good you are, four against one are not good odds."

Temari was just about to counter her brother's statement when Kankurou cut in.

"Well thankfully, that wasn't the case. Let's not get distracted over something so trivial Gaara. We'll discuss that later. Temari, finish the story."

Gaara leaned back in the barstool. He'd been silenced for the time being.

"Asuma told me to meet up with him at Satin in two days time. He said Shikamaru wanted to meet with me." Temari recalled from their previous meeting.

"Satin. It's that club on North street right?" Kankurou asked as he attempted to visualize the location.

"Yes, it's that one." Gaara answered. "What happened then?"

"I went to Satin tonight to meet up liked I'd said I would. There I met Shikamaru." Temari paused, inwardly debating whether or not to inform her brothers of her earlier meeting with Shikamaru at the bar. She soon decided against it. That wasn't necessary to her story anyway.

"And what did Shikamaru have to say?" Kankurou was beginning to tire of having to drag the story out of his sister.

Cool anger flickered across Temari's face. "He knows. He knows exactly who I am, and what I do."

Alarm quickly avalanched on Gaara's and Kankurou's faces.

"How?" Gaara's voice, low and steely, easily conveyed his anger.

"That fucking bastard...." Kankurou, too, was infuriated.

"I don't know. I honestly don't know." Temari sighed before quickly returning to her story. "But listen, don't get angry." She said before launching into a full explanation of the deal he'd offered her that night.

"An escort? It's similar to what you're doing now isn't it?" Kankurou mused aloud after listening to his sister.

She nodded. "It's only normal for men like that to have a woman with them, but they aren't aware that I'm not just there as a trophy woman."

"It still doesn't make sense. Why would he allow you in like this? What does he have to gain from it?" Gaara muttered quietly.

"He wants to use the information I retrieve to his advantage. He'll get to keep an eye on things." Temari shrugged.

"And you said he's going to allow you to use all the information you come across?" Gaara still could not fully understand it. "You're sure he's not just blackmailing you?"

Temari nodded, the honey locks bobbing in her ponytail. "I won't let him get that far anywhere. I'll work with him long enough to get all the information we'll need, and then kill him. We can't risk him being alive for too long."

"That's very true. I can see how difficult of a decision it would have been to make." Kankurou said from his relaxed position on the couch. "The only problem is just ensuring the fact that he won't release your information prematurely. It's his trump card."

"Indeed." Gaara added from the barstool.

"He said he'd only release it if I made an attempt on his life." Temari answered.

"Still, it seems like such a flimsy excuse. I mean, I don't doubt that he could fight on equal footing with you. Gorou would not have chosen a weak man to succeed him." Gaara said as he stood from his chair and stretched.

Kankurou shrugged. "He needs Temari. You know how volatile the shadows are. She's going to be used to his advantage for the time being, and the benefit is that Temari will use him right back and take care of him for good after she's done. If this works correctly, we'll not only put Shikamaru and his cronies away, but we'll also obtain some good evidence against many other people we've been trying to pin down."

"That's exactly the way I saw it Kankurou." Temari appreciated her brother's objective attitude toward the situation.

"That's not to say it doesn't involve its fair share of risks." Kankurou sent a knowing glance at Temari.

Gaara emerged from his brooding state. "All right Temari. I'm giving you from eight weeks to do what you need to and get all the information you need." Her crimson haired younger brother was set. Not a day more and not a day less. "It seems like an abbreviated amount of time, but anything longer than that would jeopardize the situation. No matter what he says about your information, I still don't trust him."

Temari nodded her head. Hopefully, that should be more than enough time.

"I want him dead by the end of that time period. He and all of his subordinates are to become history, understood?" Gaara's voice, authoritative and low, still held doubt but he did his best to conceal them under the general calmness.

"Don't disappoint me Temari."

"Have I ever?" Her lips turned up in a full smirk, the thrill and anticipation of what awaited her in the next eight weeks slowly building within her.


	5. Plan

Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to claim Naruto, stealing isn't cool

Chapter 5

**Plan**

Temari's footsteps sounded in echoed clinks as she ascended the flight of stairs. Glancing over her shoulder, she pushed open the door at the end of the flight of stairs. Temari paused as she entered the dimly lit corridor, listening for anything unusual. After several seconds of peace, she continued on, counting doors until she'd reached the fifth one.

She raised the back of her hand to knock, but then decided against it. Crime bosses didn't need the necessary civilities. After all, Shikamaru was expecting her...eventually. Gently twisting the knob, she leaned against the door and entered the room.

The room wasn't overly huge, but there was enough room for a large desk near the back wall, a coffee table in the middle of the room, a leather couch on the right of the table, and a few chairs haphazardly positioned around the room. Temari's eyes lingered on an inconspicuous wooden door closed in the far left corner of the room.

Two men, one slung across a leather sectional and the other, seated precariously on a folding chair teetering on two legs, immediately rose at her presence.

Temari vaguely remembered their faces. Occasionally, she'd seen them with Gorou and assumed they were his henchmen or bodyguards. Either way, it didn't matter much to her.

One man's eyes flickered with sudden recognition as Temari took a step forward.

"Don't move." His voice low, eyes hard.

"Hiro it's..."

"Yeah Ken. I know damn well who this is." Hiro answered, reaching back and allowing the tips of his fingers to swim beneath just beneath the lip of his pockets. "So nice to see you again Ayumi."

Temari glowered. "I don't have any business with you." She took another step as Hiro gradually circled around her.

"Yeah? Then who have you got business with?" Ken questioned.

"Me."

Temari's head whipped in the direction of the voice. It could only belong to _him_. It was the same lazy, understated drawl that she associated with him; that epitomized him. The wooden door in the corner was now half way open with Shikamaru straddling the threshold.

Arms crossed neatly directly across his chest, he strode into the room and leaned against a wall.

"She's here for me. Is there a problem with that?" Shikamaru asked, the rich timbre of his voice tired but almost teasing.

"Boss, but what about -," Hiro began, his eyes still trained on Temari.

Shikamaru raised his hand, a signal for Hiro to stop. "That's being taken care of." Shikamaru shrugged. "What's done is done, and the rest is in my hands."

Hiro's face was still unconvinced.

"I forgot to tell you two. Starting from today, Ayumi will be my escort. I'd like you to treat her with the same courtesy you give me." The shadow master's dark eyes narrowed slightly, soliciting compliance from the two men.

A thick silence answered the young boss.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his thick hair. "We'll talk more about this later. You two are dismissed for now."

"Are you kicking us out of the office?" Ken questioned as his eyes gauged Shikamaru's face for anything that could possibly give way to the undesirable truth.

Temari watched while Shikamaru rolled his eyes. She could've sworn she'd heard him mutter "something like that" under his breath.

"No. I'm giving you guys the day off. You want to make rounds for me instead? If you want to work so badly you two can go around the city and inquire about the interest on some people's loans." Shikamaru replied as irritability audibly leaked through his words like water from a drippy faucet.

"I'm giving you the day off so I can work. Is that _really _acause for suspicion Ken?" Shikamaru's firm tone dismembered whatever feeble entrails of an argument his subordinate had against him. No one could truly dispute him as boss, well at least not to his face.

Shikamaru disliked lording his executive power over Ken and Hiro; however, he was not in the mood to be heckled right now.

Ken sighed and shook his head.

"All right then. Take the day off and come in tomorrow." Shikamaru motioned for Temari to follow him.

Listening to the rigid click of the door behind her, she followed Shikamaru through the wooden door and into another room. Apparently, this was his private office.

"Close the door." He said to her as soon as she passed through it.

Temari grabbed the knob and pushed the door shut behind her.

Shikamaru walked past the chair by his desk and simply stood by the window on the other wall. Temari watched as his gaze settled on the scraggly white puffs randomly splotched against the sky's swirling blue. The clouds wisped and sailed across the Suna sky unhurriedly, yet with a certain determination to make it to wherever they were going.

"Clouds live an enviable lifestyle." He commented, as he turned away from the window and leaned against the warm pane.

"Why's that?" Temari curiously questioned.

"Clouds have no one to tell them what to do, when to do it, or even how to do it. They just drift along; maybe they'll make some rain...maybe not. It's all up to them." A faint smile graced his lips. I wasn't expecting you here today though."

"I was in the area."

"Oh? You wanted to drop by and say hi?" Shikamaru smirked.

Ignoring his comment she sat down in a chair. "I believe you wanted to finalize our deal?"

"Of course."

"So, how exactly is this going to work?" Temari asked, ready to sort out their arrangements.

"Well, for all intents and purposes..." Shikamaru's voice trailed slightly. "You are my escort. You'll accompany me on outings to meet with other Suna underground heads and wherever else I want you to be."

Crossing her legs, Temari eyed him carefully before a full lipped smirk spread across her face. Blonde shimmered over her shoulder as she shook her head slightly. "Maybe I gave you the wrong idea. I said I would do this, but I'm **not **your private dancer. I'm not sabotaging my schedule just to meet your demands. So, let's try this again."

Shikamaru, still propped against the windowpane, shrugged. "What do you have in mind?"

"You'll give me at least a two days notice before I need to attend any event with you. I won't be summoned like some sort of pet, got it?"

"Of course."

"Good."

"Well then, can I make just one exception to that rule?" Shikamaru asked.

"What?"

"I need you to come out tonight."

"Fine." Temari shot him a heated glance.

"Don't worry. I won't keep you out past your bedtime." Shikamaru teased flippantly as a smirk lightly tugged on one side of his mouth while he cooled her heated stare with his calm one.

**--**

Temari's strapless satiny black gown carefully brushed against her legs as the room's muted lights bathed her skin in a warm glow. Shikamaru gently held her arm as they walked into the restaurant. A thin man dressed in black suit behind a small podium near the entrance quickly straightened up as he noticed Shikamaru.

"Nara-san, so nice to see you this evening." The man's voice was a bit shaky and somewhat overly polite. "We weren't expecting you," his tone was worried as his voice trailed.

"Yes. It was a spur of the moment thing."

"Of course I'll have a table prepared for you right away." He smiled nervously as his eyes slid past Shikamaru and carefully observed Temari standing next to him. "Yes, a table for you and your lovely companion."

"That would be great, thanks."

Walking past the couple, the man snapped and called several servers away from their patrons. Temari heard him whispering furiously into their ears, but she couldn't exactly catch what the exchange was. Before she could even ask Shikamaru what they were doing, the man returned with a wide smile plastered on his face.

"Your table is ready Nara-san."

Temari felt herself being moved by Shikamaru as he guided her through a maze of tables. All the way to their table, servers ceased from what they were doing and bowed politely as they she and Shikamaru passed by them. Temari even noticed a few of the patrons nodding their head as Shikamaru walked by their tables.

"We have a booth prepared for you; will that be all right?"

Shikamaru nodded.

After being ushered to their booth, the man continued bustling around their table until he'd outfitted them with menu's, procured three bottles of wine just for the two of them, and inquired about the booth's location for the fifth time. Each time, Shikamaru answered dutifully, if not a bit sardonically.

Finally, the man left and Temari was able to converse with the dark haired enigma that sat across from her.

"You seem to be well known here." She commented, hinting at the extravagant service.

Shikamaru shrugged. "All the excessiveness isn't sincere. The owner just wants to use my name and position to his advantage. They just know who I _used_ to be, and who I am now. Things have become even more troublesome since I received my 'promotion', all thanks to you."

"Why are we here?" She asked, her sultry voice a notch quieter.

"Surveillance." He replied, his tone somewhat bored.

"What are you watching?"

"Not what am _I_ watching. It's _who_ catches _your _eye." Shikamaru answered.

Temari quickly caught on to him. "We're scouting people?"

"Mmm, something like that." He answered while fingering his napkin swathed silverware. Glancing around the room, Shikamaru noted several other prominent criminal bosses. Gorou had done business with more than half the room's occupants.

Shikamaru set down his silverware and nudged her menu. "Pick something to order. We need to look convincing remember?"

Reaching for her menu, Temari met his eyes and released one of the smile's she reserved specially for 'clients.' Don't worry, they won't suspect a thing." She replied as her cool teal irises flowed into his deep bistre ones.

**--**

Dinner, though periodically interrupted by the nervous little desk man, was surprisingly enjoyable. Though relaxed, Temari kept her keen senses attune to snatching bits of people's conversations, and committing faces to her memory. Sipping her wine, her eyes drifted over the bulbous rim and locked with a stranger's inky onyx pools that seemed to stare straight through her. His eyes, hard as coals, remained on her until she quickly glanced away.

Shikamaru carefully watched Temari while she observed others. His eyes lingered on the fullness of her painted red lips as they pursed around the rim of her wine glass. Glancing at her slender fingers wrapped around the stem of her wineglass, Shikamaru vaguely wondered how many had perished at those hands. Though it was wrong, not only blatantly wrong, but exceedingly risky for him to willingly invite this woman into the dodgy shadows of organized crime, he didn't mind for now. This was his unorthodox way of refusing to mold into another bastard of a crime boss. As Nara Shikamaru, he refused to embrace this appalling way of life. Not only would he change things, but he would use the deadly woman in front of him to accomplish it.


	6. Interaction

**A/N: **Oh wow...umm so I'm back from my unexpected hiatus. Trust me that long break was not premeditated, but now that I've overcome some wicked writer's block, my muse and I are back together once more. We tore up the divorce papers and everything, because we realized that we just had to be together. Ah, true love always prevails!

Chapter 6

**Interaction**

Temari, file folder in hand, dutifully made her way down the long stretch of corridor on her way back to the office. Browsing through the folder, she nearly walked passed the door to the office. Gently, she closed the manila folder. Unfortunately for her, nothing good was in there; just a few of Gaara's office reports.

As she pressed the door handle down, Temari was surprised to not see Kankurou at his desk or lounging on some sort of furniture. The clock on the wall read fifteen minutes past noon. Temari crossed the room in a few lengthy strides before she knocked on Gaara's door.

"Can I come in?" Temari asked through the thick door. Silence answered her. Lightly knocking, she waited for his answer. A few more seconds passed by before she decided to let herself in. Maybe Gaara was on the phone and couldn't answer?

Gaara's empty office greeted her. This was highly unusual. Having both her brother's out of the office in the middle of the day was a rare occurrence. Slipping her hand into front pocket, she'd just decided to call them when she a shallow vibrating in her back pocket stole her attention. Her other phone, the one Shikamaru had given her for contacting purposes, was ringing. After several outings with him, he'd supplied her with their own personal line of communication.

Deftly sliding the phone out, she clicked the green talk button.

"Yes?"

"Where are you?" The phone's small receiver somehow conveyed all the richness of his voice distinctly.

"In the office. What do you want?" Temari answered, her tone colored with irritation as she set the folder on Gaara's desk.

"There's work. Are you alone?"

"Yes, but why?"

"I don't need extra ears listening in on our business."

Temari mmm-ed a reply. She rarely used the phone around people. Shikamaru had specifically asked to not let anyone other than the two of them be aware of the secret phone's existence. Surprisingly, she'd complied.

"What's the job?" She asked while straightening stray sticky notes that decorated every square inch of smooth surface and pens that had rolled under furniture.

"We're going to Konoha for a few days." He replied.

"Konoha?" That had definitely taken her by surprise. "What's in Konoha?"

"There's some business I need to attend to there, and I need you with me."

"I'll pass on this Shikamaru. Konoha is out of the way for me."

A pregnant pause settled in before Shikamaru answered. "You're coming with me on this Temari. You don't really have a choice. The two of us had a deal, remember?"

"Yes, but I haven't exactly quit my day job either. I've already told you that I'm not your mistress to summon at will." Temari's tone was firm with fiery undertones.

Shikamaru listened patiently before he spoke into the receiver, a hint of drawl or possibly lethargy leaking into his voice. "Fine, we'll talk later."

Before Temari could argue back, she heard a sharp click accompanied by the monotonous hum of the dial tone. A curse had barely crossed the threshold of her lips when, in that same second, she registered the ever familiar swooshing sound of the door opening. Quickly shoving the phone back in her pocket, she skillfully swiveled toward the entrance.

A head adorned with an infamous black bowl cut peeked through the door. Temari inwardly sighed. It was only Lee.

"Is Kankurou-san in?" He asked, scanning the room.

"No, he's out." Temari said while leaning against a file cabinet. "I'm not sure when he'll be back either. He wasn't here when I came in."

"Mmm, all right." Lee smiled slightly and waved a goodbye. "Just tell him to come and see me when he gets back in."

"Sure." Returning his wave, she waited until the door was firmly shut before she pulled out her secret phone. She was contemplating calling Shikamaru back. Temari still could not believe that he'd actually hung up on _her_. This man truly did have a death wish. She decided against calling him back and set out to find her absentee siblings.

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Shikamaru checked the address on the now exceptionally well crinkled scrap of paper he'd continually thrust into his pocket when necessary. Finding new places was considerably troublesome. Even under the darkened sky, he could tell the building in front of him wasn't too new or too old. Shuffling up the stairs, his footsteps clanged dully against the metal steps. The short-lived vibrations his shoes caused were soon absorbed by the building's brick exterior. Fingering the warm paper in this pocket, he mulled over checking the apartment number once again, but he chose not to. If he walked into the wrong apartment, well...he walked into the wrong apartment. Headlights streamed past him on the streets below, temporarily illuminating the silver numbers on the doors. He watched shadows dance and stretch themselves from floor to wall with every adjustment of the lighting.

Out of boredom, he stretched out his fingers and propelled the shadows farther than they would have ever gone. Pulling the dark silhouettes together, he shrouded the entire hallway in a dense, penetrating darkness with the flick of his wrist. In the thick darkness that blanked around him, the sounds of his soft steps were lonely echoes in the long hallway. Seconds later, he released the shadows.

They receded back like the tide, washing away from everything they drowned in darkness, shrinking and twisting back to their original shapes.

Finally, he'd reached the number he was looking for. Two knocks later, Shikamaru watched the door slowly slide open. By the look on her face he could tell he'd taken completely by surprise.

"Why are _you_ **here**?" Shikamaru did not miss the way Temari's eyes steadily darkened to match her tone.

Leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, Shikamaru was unfazed by her hostility.

"I said we'd talk later didn't I?" He replied calmly.

"I already told you _no_." She argued back.

Shikamaru's lids dipped slightly before he stepped closer to her. "We have a deal Temari."

His words ignited the smoldering fire in her eyes. "And?"

Shikamaru could nearly feel the poison coated thickly around her warm contralto.

He paused, carefully picking his next words. "I'm only reminding you of our agreement."

Temari did not answer. She merely shoved on the door with such a force that even Shikamaru almost could not counter her action.

Swiftly grabbing the door's edge, he pushed back. His hand flattened against the door, equaling Temari's force.

"Get bent Shikamaru." She seethed quietly through her teeth.

Shikamaru answered by increasing his force on her door.

Even with the door at a positional equilibrium, the silent struggle of wills continued. Shikamaru, though he shouldn't have been, was surprised at how well Temari evenly matched his strength. He steadily continued to increase the force he pushed with until he felt the door slightly give way.

The door continued giving way before Shikamaru suddenly felt the stomach churning realization that Temari had ceased all her resistance. All too soon, the door began moving with Shikamaru swinging along with it.

Temari stood off to the side, arms crossed with one side of her lips turned upward.

His collision with the floor seemed imminent. Temari could barely contain the twitch in her lips that threatened to become a smirk. Inches from the wooden floor, Shikamaru glanced her way, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. Placing his free hand palm down, he pushed himself upward. A lithe flip later, he carefully landed on his feet.

"Nicely done." Temari commented.

"And horribly troublesome." He muttered quietly.

Temari walked toward the door and gently shut it before motioning for Shikamaru to follow her.

He sat across from her, his arms casually crossed against his chest.

"What exactly is going on in Konoha that is so important?" Shikamaru's unusual persistence couldn't help but make her the slightest bit curious.

"I'm scouting. Looking for someone."

"And where do I come in?"

"It's time for the Hyuuga gala." Shikamaru answered.

"The Hyuuga family? What do they have to do with you?" Temari was surprised. The name Hyuuga was always associated with "old money," but nothing shady. The great grandfather of the current CEO, Neji Hyuuga, had started a small textiles business nearly a century ago, and somewhere down the line, his business mushroomed.

The younger Hyuuga generation was drastically more aggressive with the business than its seasoned members, and after only heading the company for two years, Neji had diversified the company's holdings. Strategically, he continued to buy out other companies until finally, the Hyuuga family owned a little bit of everything. The family was hush hush about their affairs, but notorious for their contributions to numerous charities.

"You look surprised." He commented. "Don't tell me you actually thought the Hyuugas were spotless."

Shikamaru's comment peaked Temari's interest.

"They've got ties to the underground mafia that stretch all the way back to the founder of the Hyuuga enterprises. All those so-called 'charities' they donate too are just facades for the real thing. They bankroll the mafia. Everyone wants to get with the Hyuugas. If you have something good to offer them, they'll treat you very well. The Hyuuga family is very well known in the underworld."

"Then why haven't I heard anything about them?" Temari questioned.

"Because they're careful Temari. It'd be some serious damage to their assets if the general public found out about all their underhanded transactions. Plus, people who betray the Hyuuga family don't live to tell about it."

"So, they're holding a gala?" She steered the topic back to its origin.

"Yes, and my lovely escort just has to accompany me." Shikamaru smirked.

Temari rolled her eyes. She was extremely interested in going though.

"I hate going to troublesome things like this, but this is the largest gathering of anyone who's anyone in the underworld. If you're looking for someone, the Hyuuga gala is the right place to find the person. And you know," Shikamaru's voice trailed "I bet you can cross some people off your hit list while we're there."

He was baiting her, and she knew it.

"Fine. I'll go." She conceded. Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, she crossed her arms and sighed. "When do we go?"

"Tomorrow."

"Why so soon?"

"The event is on Friday evening." Shikamaru deadpanned.

"That's the day after tomorrow! Why the hell are you just telling me now?" The sparks in her eyes flew up like someone had disturbed a smoldering fire.

"It slipped my mind."

"Of course it did. Because I _know_ you're schedule is fucking booked every day."

Shikamaru, calm as ever, stood and waved her off. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"What time?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Mornings aren't exactly my thing, but I'll be here tomorrow." Shikamaru answered on his way out.

She rushed to follow him, but Shikamaru was gone before she could accost him with more questions. Temari stared out her door down the long hallway, but she was unable to distinguish him from the thick darkness.

Shutting the door behind her, Temari mentally sketched the timeline. It had been nearly two weeks since she'd began this agreement with him. Strangely, the thought of killing him seemed afar off. Almost something that she thought would be unnecessary.

As soon as the thought entered her mind, she jolted. Temari deleted that as a possibility. Executing this job correctly was paramount. She would fulfill her duties.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Shikamaru watched the convoluted orangish glow of other car's tail lights swirl and fade as he sped past them. Interstate driving would be much more enjoyable if people went a little above the speed limit.

He'd always thought his speeding was a bit ironic. As laid back as he was, people were always surprised by his lust for speed when driving.

Temari sat next to him, intently studying something outside her darkened window. SHer blonde locks shimmered dully in the dim car.

A calm silence had settled in the car as he'd been driving. Konoha was an eight hour drive, and they'd been on the road for seven. Shikamaru was content to listen to the intense growl of the Audi Q7's engine, but he wouldn't mind conversation with Temari. He'd admit that he did enjoy the sound of her voice. It was something akin to the smooth texture of a full bodied wine, or deep dark chocolate.

"You like to drive fast." She said, a small smirk tugging on her shapely lips.

"Yes." He replied quietly. "That's why I buy fast cars."

"Gorou must have taken care of you." Temari commented slyly, fingering the plush leather of her seat. Even in the dark, she noticed his eyes narrow slightly.

"I took care of myself." He answered.

The pair said nothing more for a few minutes.

"Why do you do what do?" He asked, dispelling the silence.

"What I do?" She asked back.

Shikamaru turned his eyes from the endless stretch of dark road in front of him and glanced her way.

"Do you enjoy leading men astray and giving them the kiss of death?" His tone implied he was joking, but his eyes were serious.

"It's just something I do." Her voice was frighteningly smooth. "It's become a part of me."

"Why do you do what you do?" Temari asked in return.

"Me?"

"You don't seem like someone who would be in this 'business'." She confessed.

Shikamaru remained silent. He looked away from her and into the darkened sky. Navy blue skirted around the far edges, before eventually giving way to an inky black.

"Necessity." He replied, the rich timbre of his voice low. "As much as I hated it, I did it to keep myself alive when I was younger. Gorou just happened to get to me first though." He said distastefully.

"Why did you stay with him if you didn't like him?"

"I didn't trust him, but I sure as hell didn't trust anyone else."

"He left everything he had to you, and he made you his successor. There must have been some degree of trust."

"That old bastard trusted what I have." Shikamaru murmured resentfully. "I don't do because I enjoy it, and I don't plan to continue this forever."

Temari leaned back, processing everything she'd just heard. This man was different from any other she'd ever dealt with. She couldn't place his motives, but that didn't douse her curiosity. He was intriguing her more and more with each passing day.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Temari squinted as Shikamaru pulled up beneath the hotel's car pack. Her eyes quickly adjusted from the blanketing darkness of the highway to white lights above them. Two men in suits stood waiting by large marble columns. One quickly pulled Temari's door open and held out his hand to assist her, while the other made his way to the driver's side and opened Shikamaru's door.

"Any particular place where you'd like the car parked sir?" The valet asked.

"Anywhere where it won't be scratched." Shikamaru replied, his voice tired.

"We'll have your luggage brought up to your room as soon as you're settled in sir."

Shikamaru nodded, before motioning to Temari.

He pulled her close, gently wrapping his arm around her waist. Temari stiffened at the unannounced contact.

Leaning into her, Shikamaru brought his lips near her ear. "We don't know who's here. It would be troublesome if we didn't keep up appearances."

She nodded.

"Play your part well, and you'll be rewarded." He murmured before they reached the front desk.

Temari stifled a shiver as the warmth of his breath fanned against her ear. His slim, strong fingers curved perfectly around her waist, the scent of his cologne faintly dipping into the air around her.

Temari, glancing around the lobby, noted the extravagance of it all. The same onyx marble flecked with gold used on the columns outside was the flooring in the lobby. Other spaces on the area were covered with what appeared to be plush carpets that matched the décor perfectly. Red overstuffed, leather couches punctuated the open space, while two intricately carved armoires filled with glass decanters, aging bourbon, and wine were on either side of the room.

Shikamaru quickly finished and ushered Temari to the elevator. She noticed he was still holding her in the elevator.

Out the elevator and down a carpeted hall later, the pair arrived at their room. He handed her a card before sticking his own in the allotted slot.

"Your key." He said.

"Thanks."

The light by the handle turned green, allowing them to enter. Temari's eyes widened. The suite was large, if not ostentatious.

On the opposite side of the room were French doors which led out to a balcony. The walls were painted light olive while the furniture contrasted with light beige. A bottle of champagne stood crisply chilling in a bucket of ice on a table not too far way.

Three white doors were on each wall in the large sitting room.

Two soft knocks on the door broke Temari out of her reverie.

"Luggage." A muffled voice said from behind the door.

Shikamaru opened the door, revealing a bell man with her and Shikamaru's bags.

"Thanks." He took the bags from the bellman and tipped him before he left.

Shikamaru closed his eyes, collapsed on a couch and yawned loudly. "That drive was more tiring than I thought it would be. Ready to sleep Temari?"

Leaned against a table, Temari nodded.

"Where am I sleeping?"

"With me." He answered, mussing his chocolate hair with his hand.

"Excuse me?" Temari's body language was suddenly considerably more hostile.

Shikamaru's lids rose temporarily before sliding shut again. He loved to see her riled up.

Temari walked over to where Shikamaru was sitting before nearly straddling him.

"I'm not sleeping in the same bed with you." She said, her rich contralto hazardously low. "Don't think you can pull shit with me. I won't hesitate."

Shikamaru opened his eyes, only to find Temari's aquamarine orbs smoldering right into his own. Even in her irritated state, Shikamaru noted all her best features. The full, curved lips, the delicately bronzed skin, and the low dip in her neck that lured his eyes farther south to the supple skin of her chest. Something deep within him stirred. She was beautiful, yet so awfully dangerous.

Temari impatiently waited for his answer.

"Hesitate to what?" Shikamaru's voice was as low as hers, his question baiting and taunting her at the same time.

"Hesitate to kill you." She replied, her eyes dancing.

"Don't you trust me?" He asked, his eyes dancing along with hers. Somehow Shikamaru had changed the mood from serious to something else with his question.

He watched Temari's lips purse slightly, as though she were in deep thought.

"Would you trust yourself?" She murmured in his ear, the fire in her eyes alive and well.

He smirked. "Now that's debatable."

"Exactly." She replied. "Now, where am I sleeping?"

He motioned to the doors on two of the walls. "Pick one."

Leaning back, she turned on her heel, picked a bag, and disappeared behind one of the doors.

"Good night Shikamaru." She said from behind the door.

"Good night troublesome Temari."


	7. Struggle

Disclaimer: Naruto still isn't mine. Haven't I expressed this same thought enough times? Oh bother.

**A/N: **Yes, I have indeed returned to Gravity. I never left, my muse and I were just seeing different people, you know. Thanks goodness we got back together! Thanks to all of you faithful followers! You will definitely be reward very soon. This chapter is chock full of words, dialogue, and thoughts. It's a little intense, I know. As this is a darker more mature story, I've given Shikamaru more of an edge. Temari kept all her usual spunk with a little something extra. Hope you guys don't feel like our favorite [soon to be] couple is too OOC, but for them to work I need them to shed some of their Naruto innocence. Enjoy! Can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts! Read and review my dears!

Chapter 7

**Struggle**

_His heart pounded furiously. The blood seeped through the shirt he'd placed over his friend's wound. _

"_Choji can you hear me?!" Shikamaru's voice wavered though he did his best to steady his nerves. _

"_Shikamaru…" Choji said, coughing violently as the blood gurgled over his lips. The dying man struggled to verbalize his thoughts. "Finish me." The words were barely audible, yet Shikamaru stiffened._

"_Keep fighting Choji, please." Shikamaru pleaded. "I can't." He paused. "No, I _won't _take your life."_

_Shikamaru applied all the pressure in his body to the deep wound in Choji's stomach that continued oozing the crimson liquid. Every cell in Shikamaru's body agonized with his friend as the spasms jerked Choji mercilessly. _

"_Why do you allow him to suffer?" A calm voice asked from behind._

_Shikamaru pivoted sharply. His breaths, shallow and erratic, were heavy as his anger escalated. "You fucking bastard. __**You**__ did this to him!" _

"_But you continue to allow him to suffer? Give him what he wants. End his life."_

"_Shut the fuck up! I'll kill you if he dies. You son of a bitch Sasuke, I'll kill you!"_

"_Shikamaru…" Choji concentrated all his effort in raising his voice. _

"_Choji don't talk." Shikamaru's hands moved methodically through the deep blood. _

"_You can't save him." Sasuke declared._

"_Fuck off Uchiha." _

_Sasuke left where he was standing and stood directly over Choji. Before Shikamaru could react, the spasms that thrashed his friend's body suddenly ceased. The injured man's pupils dilated and Shikamaru could only watch in horror as Choji's lips parted in a silent scream. _

_As Shikamaru's glanced up toward Sasuke, he caught the fleeting traces of crimson irises adorned with spinning onyx pinwheels. _

"_Choji?! Choji! " A panic washed over Shikamaru like a tide at sea. The tremors overtook Choji once again, these more violent than the previous ones. Shikamaru watched the dying man's hands grab at his hair and violently yank them straight from their roots._

"_Now will you give him death?" He asked, walking away. The innocence in Sasuke's voice chilled every last bone in Shikamaru's body. _

_Shikamaru fought the moisture brimming near the corners of his eyes. Heartbroken, he watched as Choji continued screaming. He cringed as his friend dug his nails in his arms, the blood trailing down Shikmaru's body in neat streams._

_Though his heart panged painfully, he knew what had to be done. Shikamaru calmed his unsteady hands as he pulled a knife from Choji's pocket. Strangely, he did not cringe as he dug the weapon in his friend's chest, immediately stopping his heart. _

_Anger and grief swirled together, forever concocting something dark and dangerous in Shikamaru's soul. _

* * *

Shikamaru awoke with a start. Disoriented, he fought the crisp linens constricted around his body. Untangling the twisted sheets from his legs, he turned in bed. His breaths were fast, his shirt damp with sweat.

He'd had the dream again.

The neon blue letters on his alarm clock read 3:13 A.M. Shikamaru reached a toned arm above his head and stretched it toward the ceiling but grasped nothing but air.

For the first time in a long time, Nara Shikamaru was anxious. The reason he'd come to attend the wretched thing would be there. His motive for obediently existing as Gorou's underling when he could have easily killed him, the reason why he'd taken over Gorou's group, it was all linked back to one man. Uchiha Sasuke. He'd kept his secret for many years. The true reason why he'd agreed to leave with Gorou on that fateful night years ago. Shikamaru was simply biding his time, waiting until the day when he would be ready to face Uchiha Sasuke again.

The Shikamaru of his youth was inexperienced, unknowledgeable, a bit rash. All those factors had ended up in the death of his best friend.

Shikamaru clutched a fist as he turned on his side. Sasuke and Shikamaru had crossed paths sometime before Gorou had taken Shikamaru in. Like Shikamaru, Sasuke was a rare gem. He possessed a special eye technique, sharingan, which was deadly. His power was even more coveted than Shikamaru's own, but Sasuke was unpredictable. Many greedy underground leaders had tried to use Sasuke for their own gain, but beneath the calm exterior, Uchiha Sasuke was an untamed beast who methodically killed his way to the top of any organization. Sasuke was not in this for the money, but just to satiate his own bloodlust.

Shikamaru knew firsthand the horror of the sharingan. Those who did not die immediately from its effects typically killed themselves as insanity ravaged their minds. Though Shikamaru had not experienced the sharingan himself, he'd suffered through watching the sharingan end his best friend's life.

Silent fury surged through every vein his body. Shikamaru slipped out of bed, unable to remain still. Tossing off his shirt damp shirt, Shikamaru left the bed. Outside his room, milky streams of moonlight from the French doors striped the floor, white washing anything in their path.

He stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed, arms stretched around him. Like children summoned by their mother, the shadows strung themselves together and came to him. The shadows were his children. He beckoned them, and they came. Shikamaru exhaled comfortably as the darkness slowly washed over him, his power leaking into the night and mingling in the air.

Shikamaru felt himself withdrawing from his body and into the secured depths of his soul. The hatred for Uchiha Sasuke was fresh there, pulsing ever stronger with each steady beat of his heart. He didn't bother to open his eyes; he knew he'd already enveloped the room in something more than darkness.

The absence of light calmed him, slightly. He allowed his frustration to materialize itself in tendrils that reached out of his void and grasped something. A few seconds later, he felt a satisfying crack. He'd take care of whatever he'd broken later. He continued receding from the present world, a whirlwind splaying wildly around him as he released his anger in the darkness. Knowing he would see Sasuke soon fueled him even more.

He knew better, but he continued allowing his fury to leak out into his void. Shapes and shadows spun madly around him, his fingers pulling them closer and forcing them farther out into the dark space.

* * *

Temari stirred noiselessly under the soft sheets. She felt herself trembling, but unable to stop it. Refusing to open her eyes, she wrapped her arms around herself hoping to calm the tremors. Still, her body shook. Finally she lifted her heavy lids. Temari soon realized it was not her shaking, but her bed and even the floor beneath it.

Immediately, her alertness heightened. Temari quickly slipped out of the bed and made her way to the door. The quaking increased exponentially as she neared the door. Pulling the door open, Temari froze. While her room had been dim, the darkness in the sitting room was almost thick enough to grab. She barely made out little strands of darkness whisking around the room. She took a step into the dark, hoping to find the cause of the tremors.

* * *

Shikamaru's concentration faltered as he felt something enter his territory. Instinctively, he lashed out while subconsciously focusing his shadows on the target.

Temari's eyes widened as she watched him. His eyes were closed, the space around him a vortex of darkness.

"Shikamaru stop!" Temari commanded as the darkness tightly swathed around her, constricting itself around her until she gasped for breath.

Shikamaru's eyes immediately snapped open, instantaneously dispelling the tremors and the thick darkness like a deep mist. Gone were his warm bistre irises, only to be replaced with hard inky disks that stared blankly back at her.

"Shikamaru…" Temari called once more, hoping to bring him back to the present.

The shadow wielder quickly returned while his stance remained unusually defensive.

With the darkness gone, the slicks of moonlight striped the floor and gently illuminated the room once again. In the powdery light, Temari cautiously examined him. His bare chest heaved with each labored breath he took. Plump veins spread over the taut muscles of his arms, revealing the strain he had undergone. His sleek chocolate locks were splayed in disarray, the smooth line of his jaw etched in uncharacteristic rigidity.

"Temari?" Her name left his lips in time with a ragged breath. The smoothness of his voice saturated with a distinct roughness. "Why aren't you sleeping?" Shikamaru asked as he gradually began returning this his normal self.

"The room was shaking." She replied. "I didn't know what it was."

Shikamaru exhaled loudly, a hand raking through his chocolate locks.

Temari watched as his chest silently heaved, each breath quieter than the last. Even in the dim moonlight, the curves and planes of his muscles stood taut and firm.

"Are you…okay?" He asked finally.

Temari nodded, the hairs on her arms still standing.

He walked toward the French doors, staring listlessly out into the night sky. His eyes followed the scanty clouds that flanked the moon's curved edges. Shikamaru leaned his head against the door's glass pane, frustrated he'd let himself withdraw as much as he did. His dream's vivid recollection of Choji's death had set him off that way.

Temari shuffled up behind him, her back to the door. "Do you do that often?"

He managed a dark laugh. "No."

"Kankurou tried to explain your technique to me once. His description is pretty shitty compared to the real thing." Temari commented.

"You shouldn't have seen that. It's not…safe for you." Shikamaru's voice dropped slightly as he uttered the second half of the sentence.

"You came back as soon as I called you." Temari assured him.

A frustrated sigh puffed out of him. "That's not typical. I could have fucking killed you and not realized it."

Temari turned her face to his, pale moonlight streaking against her smooth skin. "What's got you so riled up?" Her teal orbs bore silently into his, a something akin to concern lingering in her words.

Shikamaru returned her gaze. His distant eyes mirrored hers as the anger slowly began ebbing away.

"The night sky is lonely." His hand flattened against the glass door. "The good clouds are gone."

"Are they?" She questioned skeptically, not entirely in the mood for a cryptic answer.

"Will you perform well for me at the gala?" He suddenly asked, shifting the course of the conversation entirely. He looked at her, something fierce and foreign dancing behind those murky pools in his eyes.

"Not for you." She pondered aloud. "I will because I have a job to do." Her answer was sly and Temari-like.

Shikamaru turned to her again. Her blasé answer was not what he wanted to hear. Shifting toward her, he reached forward and cupped her chin in a lean but strong hand. "Temari." Shikamaru persisted, "Look at me."

Taken off guard, Temari was unsure of what to make of his action. Her initial instinct was to swat his hand away, but the urgency in his voice prevented her from dismissing his action.

Curious, Temari looked up, her eyes boring into his own. "What do you want from me?" She replied, her smooth contralto low and dangerous.

"You will do it because we have a deal. You will play your part **perfectly**."

Instinctively, Temari stiffened. Jerking her face away from his palm, she squared her shoulders and glared. The aquamarine irises flashed and flared, killer intent rolling off her in coiled waves.

"Are you threatening me?" She asked, the sultry voice dipping even lower than it already was.

"No. I'm just reminding of who you are, and what we're doing. This is business Temari." Was his controlled response. "You will not kill me until I have finished my business with you. You will not kill me until I have killed him first." His tone was resolute, frightening.

Temari eyes flickered around the room before she caught his gaze. Gone was the Shikamaru she had become accustomed to, she was now face to face with the person Gorou had placed his trust in. The Shikamaru she had been dallying with was not the man who struck fear into the hearts and minds of those fighting in the dark. **This** was the man strong enough to inherit an evil empire.

Seeing this side of him wasn't terrifying. Temari had fought her own share of scary men. The typical kind of men she dealt with was like dealing with a frightening dog that continually bore his fangs at everyone. You knew what the dog was: mean. You knew to either stay away or take a stick with you to defend yourself. But unlike the dog that was upfront about what he was, there was the dog that was friendly and kind to everyone. The dog that you petted and licked your hand every day, and yet beneath that façade was an uncontrollable killer. An animal that was many times worse than the animal that seemed outwardly fierce. Shikamaru was _that _kind of dog.

This man was dangerous. Temari had never felt anything like _this_ before. The fact that she could almost wrap her hands around his presence was thrilling. It was deep like the inky depths of the sea, rough like the sands of the desert, dark like the shadows he commanded. His power was in the air, in the shadows—it lurked everywhere.

"You know you're going to die by my hand, right?" She murmured fiercely into the night.

"If you think you can kill me, try it." He replied darkly.

The energy between their two bodies was dense and intoxicating like fine alcohol. Temari's own strength was heightening with each whispered taunt, with every implied accusation.

She wanted to fight this man. Not because he was criminal, but merely to test his strength. When was the last time she had fought someone better than she? Or even someone who was of similar caliber? She wanted to experience the inner killer he harbored within the depths of his soul. Her blood surged and rushed at the thought of a clash between the two of them.

Shikamaru could sense the arousal between the two of them. The woman inches from him wanted to battle. To war. Admittedly, he too would not mind having one out with her; limb for limb and blow for blow. He knew the darkness he had tapped into earlier left him with an unsettling restlessness. Harnessing such strength was not without its drawbacks. Embracing his strength awakened that bloodlust he tried his best to suppress. In the wake of it all, there was the instinctual crave of violence, that rush of desire, the sheer need to ruin.

Part of him wanted to ruin the woman in front of him. To see her covered in sweat and blood as she too lost control, and fell into her abyss of strength she tapped into. He stared down at Temari. The teals eyes sparking and offsetting the smooth honey of her hair. The way her breath quickened as she watched him, her prowess saturating the air around her. The air she exuded was one only those who had taken the lives of others could give off. Shikamaru understood the complexity of it all, and inwardly praised her.

She was not as deadly as he, but she was close. He suddenly longed to finger her shimmering honey locks between his fingers. In the darkness, he could feel himself desiring the woman in front of him. The desire shuddered through him, similar to the way the water rippled after a smooth pebble was carelessly tossed in a calm pond. The desire to collide his strength with hers, and another desire that stirred him elsewhere.

Shikamaru fought to reign himself in. It was his thoughts of Sasuke that had riled him up like this. In anger he had taunted the woman instrumental in his plan for revenge. Though the sweet voice in his mind ghosted through his thoughts, enticing him to relinquish the control he strained to maintain, Shikamaru knew better. Fighting with Temari was not what he needed right now.

The shadow wielder shut his eyes and released one controlled exhale. "Our energies are too high right now. Let's not get too caught up in killing each other before we complete the objective."

"Fair enough." Temari replied curtly.

"I've picked out a dress and jewelry for you for the gala. They'll be delivered here to you later in the day. I've also made arrangements for the other things you'll need to get ready for the evening."

Temari nodded.

Shikamaru turned away from her and began walking away. The air in the room felt stale and ripe.

"Shikamaru." Temari called.

He looked back, curious as to what she could want.

"I meant what I said." Temari said, her voice sure, her intent clear. "You will die by my hand."

In spite of himself, Shikamaru's lips turned in a smirk. "As did I Temari. As did I."


	8. Fuse

Disclaimer: If Naruto were mine, do you think that whole filler fiasco would have happened? Come now.

**A/N: **Microsoft Word cracks me up. It listed "sauce" as an alternate spelling for "Sasuke." ROFL. Anyway, so I'm pretty sure this chapter is a personal record. Fifteen pages [12 point Arial Narrow font] of pure Shika/Tema action! Huzzah! There's a bit of citrus flavor at the end, so avert your eyes if you're opposed. I certainly would not want to take anyone's innocence away, lol.

Chapter 8

**Fuse**

Smiling graciously, Temari smiled as her car door was swiftly pulled open, and a strong hand offered her way. She stepped out of the car with poise and grace. She and Shikamaru's deadly dance had begun.

Shikamaru skillfully tossed the BMW key to the valet. His fingers disappeared in his pocket but reemerged with his wallet. Pulling out a crisp twenty dollar bill, Shikamaru looked at the valet.

"Park it where won't get scratched." He said while carefully eying the SUV as he slipped the valet the money.

"Yes sir." The valet promised with a bright smile.

Circling the front of the car, Shikamaru joined Temari on the passenger side of the vehicle. Offering Temari his arm, she linked her slender but toned naked arm through his jacketed one, but she did nothing to hide her slight look of distaste from Shikamaru. It was formalities like this that she hated.

To wandering eyes, Temari and Shikamaru were the epitome of elegance. For that evening, Shikamaru had donned a simple black tuxedo sans traditional black bowtie. In addition to looking ever suave in his tux, Shikamaru had somewhat successfully slicked his hair back for the evening. Despite the few lone tendrils that refused to act in uniform with the rest of his hair and curved seductively around the sharp edge of his cheeks and smooth jaw, Shikamaru still elicited the most wanton looks from the women he passed. Beneath the fringe of sinfully dark, long lashes his eyes had changed from their usual warm chocolate in exchange for a cooler bistre. Unlike many men who tried to use their apparel to compensate for their lack of good looks, Shikamaru's attractive features were only that much more enhanced by his good taste in clothing. His attire was simple, understated, but striking nonetheless.

Temari was equally stunning that evening.

True to Shikamaru's word, a bellboy had arrived around noon with a large box which contained Temari's dress. Apparently, Shikamaru had gleaned inspiration from Temari's eyes when he picked the halter styled teal number. The lustrous silk curved wickedly around her lean frame and hugged tightly around her waist and hips while the halter's low v-neck held her full breasts in place and also displayed an appropriate amount of cleavage. The dressed teased and taunted with promises of the inviting supple skin of her chest. The gown emphasized the fact that Temari had indeed achieved the coveted hour glass figure.

For hair and makeup, Shikamaru had arranged for a stylist and makeup artist to come to their suite and tend to her. The man who did Temari's hair gushed over the sheer beauty of her honeyed locks. The fact that such thick, gorgeous hair behaved and shimmered the way it did without anything being done it almost induced a stroke in the man.

.

For such a formal event, Temari would have thought that her hair would have been swept up in some sort of elegant up do. To her surprise, the man simply used a large barrel curler to lovingly tend to each lock. After an hour of meticulous curling, Temari was spun around and allowed to view herself. Her face and neck had been framed by soft, billowing curls and waves that cascaded down her neck and back. Temari stifled a smirk when the hairstylist commented that her light colored hair and bountiful curls gave her an angelic appearance.

After her hair had been done, she sat carefully as her face was made up for the evening. The makeup artist inquired about the color of Temari's dress and from there, made her decisions about the colors to choose. To contrast and compliment the dress, Temari's eyelids had been brushed with two shades of brown and finally dusted with a color that was a cross between the sun's fiery sunset orange and shimmering gold. To finish her eyes, Temari's eyelashes were lengthened and darkened with coats of mascara. The makeup artist paid special attention to Temari's full, wide lips as she painted them a sultry red. After the apples of her cheeks were swept with blush, she was finished.

After exiting her bathroom once the attendants had gone, Temari noticed three differently shaped boxes sitting on her bed. A long rectangular box revealed a diamond choker, the next a tasteful diamond bracelet, and in the last box was the biggest pair of square diamond stud earrings Temari had ever seen. Her vision swam for a moment as she speculated at how many thousands of dollars of jewelry she was wearing. Temari understood she had to look the part she was playing, but this was a bit outlandish. The lengths she was going to just to attend this gala were simply ridiculous

Both Shikamaru and Temari were silent as they walked through the glitzy lobby of the hotel where the gala was being hosted. Neither had spoken of what had transpired in the wee hours of that day. Shikamaru had returned to his old self, and Temari, expecting as much, had said nothing yet. In spite of their silence, both parties could still sense fleeting vestiges of the escalated emotions from their early morning encounter.

After they'd both retired to their rooms that early morning, she'd spent another hour stewing on the enigma that was Shikamaru. Just who was this man she'd entered into an arrangement with? Temari prided herself on being well informed about the people she involved herself with, but as she contrasted the Shikamaru that had approached her weeks ago to the man who played in darkness, Temari no longer knew who _he_ was. She hated admitting it, but there was something in that man that was _drawing_ her, _enticing_ her, _willing_ her to keep digging. She wanted to _know_ him. She wanted to _fight_ him. She wanted to be the _**death **_of him. This had gone beyond their simple agreement. This was no longer "just business."

She unconsciously fought her magnetism toward the man, but inwardly Temari was baffled at her intense interest in Shikamaru. Never had she felt such an instinctual gravitation towards another. This sort of behavior was foreign to Temari, but truthfully Nara Shikamaru, accidental mob boss, intrigued her. There was something unsettling about the intensity of her longing to end him.

He'd informed her that they were looking for a specific man this evening. A certain Uchiha Sasuke: a man with onyx hair and even darker eyes. Shikamaru's explanation lacked his motives; he just wanted her to keep an eye out for this man. From what he'd told her, Sasuke was extremely hard to crack. He had no weaknesses, no faults, no anything. The only thing Shikamaru knew for sure was that Sasuke appreciated power. If Sasuke came across a person with enough power to be dangerous, but not dangerous to him, he would either dispose of them, if they could serve no use to him, or corral said individual into being one of his underlings. Sasuke played people like pieces on a chessboard.

In Sasuke's world, pawns were necessary. Lives expendable.

Shikamaru knew for sure that Temari would peak Sasuke's interest. Her prowess was not something easily detectable to the average person. She was the perfect bait to use to lure Uchiha Sasuke. Temari being an assassin was necessary, but to have such a deadly thing sheathed by such an alluring exterior was simply fortuitous. In Shikamaru's opinion, for her to have somehow successfully united her skills and beauty in a union worthy of holy matrimony was too perfect.

The debonair pair fit in well with all the others tuxes and gowns that lingered in the hotel lobby's marbled opulence. The Hyuuga Gala was filled with men, clad in suits and tuxes, as they strode confidently with their trophies who were expertly made up and dressed in costly gowns. Dripping with expensive jewelry and slinking expertly in painful heels, the women plastered glossy smiles on their faces. With each introduction, Temari watched and noted others carefully. She effortlessly committed names and faces to memory as she smiled and postured like the other dimwitted trophies. Kankurou would have a field day with this later.

Temari and Shikamaru soon left the lobby and followed an usher down a hallway that exchanged almond colored marble floors for plush burgundy carpeting. He led them to a pair of menacing, wooden oak doors. In front of the door was a man behind a podium who wielded a pen and flipped through what appeared to be many, many sheets of paper with neat rows of printed names running down each side.

Looking up, the man smiled as he reached to reposition the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Nara-sama, so good to see you at the gala this year." The man gushed warmly."Neji-sama will certainly be pleased at your presence"

"Thank you Akino-san." Shikamaru replied coolly, his tone hinting that Shikamaru really could have cared less about what the young head of the empire thought about him. Reaching inside his coat pocket, Shikamaru pulled out two slender tickets and a small stark white envelope and handed them to the man at the podium.

"Here are our tickets and a _small_ donation to the Hyuuga charity." Shikamaru said, eyeing the envelope that disappeared beneath the flurry of papers as soon as the man behind the podium received it.

"Thank you for your donation Nara-sama. We can't express enough appreciation."

"It's always a pleasure to patronize a good cause." The shadow wielder murmured skillfully.

Behind the man were two burly men dressed in all black who stood at attention near the doors. Akino-san motioned to the guards and nodded, signaling them to allow Shikamaru and Temari past the doors.

One of the men pushed the large doors open, revealing a room decorated in rich hues of wine and cream. Large tables seating six were positioned around the large, dimly lit room. Like ice melting away on a heated day, the chandeliers overhead dripped varying sizes of tear drop shaped diamonds.

"How did the man at the desk know who you were?" Temari inquired, her sultry voice was rich like a full bodied wine despite her hushed tones.

"I came here last year with Gorou." Shikamaru replied casually.

"A year's a long time to keep someone in your memory." Temari commented.

"Our powers of recollection are great in this business." He said, a smirk dancing across his lips.

"And just how much was your small 'charitable' donation?" She asked, curious.

"Fifteen."

"Hundred?" Temari said, figuring that was a sizeable gift.

"Thousand." Shikamaru said calmly. "Fifteen-thousand dollars."

"What have the Hyuugas done for you lately sir?" Temari whispered into his ear.

"This is simply a matter of playing nice. It's enough money for me to be in their good graces, should I ever need them, and not quite enough money for them to start wondering where I'm getting such large amounts of money." Shikamaru murmured into her ear.

Temari felt a small shiver smooth its way up her spine as his breath ghosted across the shell of her ear.

They stopped at a table already inhabited by three others. An older man with hair that was not grey but a metallic silvery white combed and parted in a skillfully executed 7 to 3 ratio sat with a blue cloth hiding most of his facial features. Even with the strange navy blue covering that shielded most of his face in addition to his left eye, it was easily seen that he was bored. His dark suit not so subtly screamed expensive. He gave an air of an importance and being well put together man despite the distraction on his face. On his right was a younger woman with the most striking rosette hair Temari had ever seen. It was a delicate shade of pink, like the color sakura blossoms were. From the way she regarded the man with the silver hair, it appeared that she was his female companion. To the left of the silver haired man was a younger man in a tux similar to Shikamaru's own.

"Shikamaru-san" the silver haired enigma said, his eye crinkling in a smile.

"Hatake-san" Shikamaru bowed slightly. "It's been awhile."

"Oh enough with the formalities." Hatake's tone was chiding. "I've told you on many an occasion to address as Kakashi." He said with a jovial chuckle.

"Of course, _Kakashi-san._"

"Indeed, it has been awhile." The masked man replied. "I keep telling you to come pay me a visit. I'll definitely pick one or two of my finest girls for you." He replied, his one exposed eye winking suggestively. "But it seems you've done well enough on your own." Kakashi smiled warmly at Temari.

"Haha, yes it does seem that way." Shikamaru trained his tone to match Kakashi's.

Shikamaru pulled a chair out for Temari across from the trio, but next to him.

"This is my lovely escort Temari."

"And she is indeed _lovely_." Kakashi extended his hand and gently took Temari's hand in his own. The soft material of his face covering brushed across Temari's knuckles as he leaned in and lightly kissed her hand.

Temari smiled. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance Hatake-san."

"Come now." Kakashi scolded jokingly. "It's Kakashi, please."

"Of course." Temari winked and sent a full lipped smile his way.

Kakashi introduced the pink haired woman next to him as Sakura and the younger man as Kiba, his bodyguard.

Kiba simply stared at Temari for a prolonged period, his eyes roaming her body before settling on her face. She'd been given many, many once-overs by bodyguards before, but the way this man looked at her ensured her temperature decreased by at least five degrees.

The evening progressed at a comfortable pace. Four courses later, plates were cleared away and the denizens of each the table left at the mercy of making polite conversation. Shikamaru and Kakashi's conversations were deceivingly normal. There was no talk of anything even remotely related the underground. From general politics to commerce, their discourse was fluid and surprisingly interesting. Temari wasn't aware that Shikamaru as so well knowledgeable about _everything. _

"So Kakashi-san, how has business been for you these days?" Shikamaru asked before taking a small sip from the bulbous wine glass before him.

"Business has been going quite well. It seems we might even have to expand to another studio."

"Really now? That's exciting." The shadows wielder's eyes widened with genuine interest.

Temari watched, silently wondering what "business" Kakashi was in.

Kakashi glanced Temari's way, a casual smile spread across his clothed lips. "Shikamaru, why don't you tell Temari-chan what I do. We can't have her thinking I'm a drug dealer or something of the sort." Kakashi joked facetiously.

Glancing Shikamaru's way, Temari almost caught what looked like a blush dusting across his cheeks.

"Kakashi-san is involved in the…" Shikamaru paused, mentally filing through his arsenal of vocabulary for the most appropriate description, "…_entertainment _industry"

"Really?" Temari voice peaked with genuine interest.

Kakashi _mhmmed_ and nodded. "Oh yes my dear. The world of _adult_ entertainment is simply bursting at the seams with money."

"Is it now?" She coughed in an attempt to dispel the laugh that threatened to spill out of her. Kakashi was so pleasant about it; Temari couldn't help but feel humored. To him, his work was like any other day at the office.

"I personally don't act in the movies, of course, but in addition to owning the production companies and studios and such, we have a booming publishing company that specializes in erotic literature. I am very involved in making sure our end product is quite tasteful _and_ enjoyable. Are you familiar with the _Icha Icha Paradise_ series?"

Temari shook her head.

"Well, it's one of our most popular. I'll be sure to send some autographed copies to Shikamaru and have him give them to you. I hope you'll look forward to them."

Temari sent Kakashi a smirk as innocence wisped deceivingly near the edges of her lips . She'd been around too many serious men in her life. The fact that man was so casual and friendly about his sex-filled profession was extremely amusing. "Of course I will Kakashi-san. I just hope Shikamaru doesn't keep them all for himself once he gets them." She teased, a sinful grin spreading across her lips her full, scarlet lips.

Kakashi nodded in agreement. "You know, I'm quite saddened Shikamaru here found you first Temari-chan. I would have scouted a beautiful thing like you up in a heartbeat. You would have been **very** popular in the industry."

Shikamaru took another particularly large mouthful of wine. Temari was playing her part exceptionally well. From her coy smiles to feigned innocence, her inner killer was veiled perfectly.

He did not really mind Kakashi flirting with Temari; after all, it was his charismatic charm that made him so successful at what he did. But this _teasing_ side of Temari was certainly new. Just when did she become so _sociable_? He eyed her wine glass. The burgundy liquid filled her glass halfway. She hadn't had enough to drink to reach the unusually friendly stage of inebriation yet. Hell, she was **far **from inebriated.

Kakashi's and Temari's, especially Temari's, antics irked him. _A lot_.

The pair continued talking before Temari excused herself to the restroom.

"Kiba" Kakashi glanced at the silent man, "please escort Temari-chan."

"Thank you for the offer, but that's not really necessary Kakashi-san." Shikamaru interjected.

Kakashi shook his head. "Oh, I must insist. You would not want her to get lost now would you?"

_Lost_? Shikamaru thought to himself. What did Kakashi take Temari for? A dumb broad like the one with the pink hair sitting next to him? He was tempted to hint at the fact that Temari was more than just a pretty face, but Shikamaru wisely held his tongue. He knew better than to decline the man's offer. Despite the fact that he knew Kakashi's intentions were probably in the right place, Shikamaru was oddly peeved at the man's graciousness. Kakashi had barely even spoken a word to his _own _date and yet he could easily go out of his way for Temari.

Kiba rose stiffly before following after Temari.

As Temari left the table behind, she inwardly cursed Kakashi. Maybe he didn't notice, but his bodyguard was not exactly the friendliest guy in the mix. The staccato click of Temari's heels fell in opposite rhythm to Kiba's footsteps. She could almost feel his eyes boring into her back as he trailed a few paces behind her. Soon enough, she located what she was searching for. Turning back to Kiba, she noticed leaning against a wall.

He nodded to Temari, acknowledging her.

A few minutes later, Temari exited and found Kiba still taking up residence by his wall. She began walking back toward the hall where they were previously seated.

"You know…" Kiba drawled, still leaned up against the wall, "I don't know who you think you're foolin'."

Temari stopped, curious to hear the man's voice for the first time. In contrast to his painfully stoic demeanor, his voice was rich with the slightest hint of twang. Turning back on her heel, she cocked an eyebrow at the man's words.

"Excuse me?"

"Kakashi seems pretty fond of you. You're playing him like a piano; I've been watching you all night. Dangerous women like you are smooth operators."

Temari's mind began working like the parts of a well oiled machine. The man in front of her seemed to know more than he was letting on.

"I'm sorry Kiba-san, I don't think I understand what you're saying."

"Temari-san, I think you do know." Kiba said, a knowing smirk spreading across his lips and revealing two pointed canine teeth on opposite ends of his mouth. "You're not just some broad like Sakura."

"Kiba-san, if you're insinuating that I'm trying to seduce Kakashi-san, you're extremely off base." Temari said shooting a pointed glare his way.

"Seduce? Who said anything about that?" Kiba questioned as he left his wall and began closing the distance between them. "I just want to know if you're trying to kill him? Or is there someone else here you've got a bounty on?" He asked, lowering his voice.

She quickly grasped what Kiba was getting at. She'd played the part of a good escort all evening. How he could have detected such accurate inferences about her was startling. Temari stepped back slightly as Kiba was now only a few inches away from her. Feigning a laugh, she glanced at him incredulously. "Kiba-san, have you had too much to drink? Where would you get those crazy ideas from?"

"Crazy ideas?" His voice lulled as he advanced toward her. "If I'm wrong" Kiba drawled with a small smirk tugging an upper corner of his lip, "then why would a _nice _lady like you need this?" Quickly his hand shot under Temari's dress, but before he could touch skin, Temari skillfully caught Kiba's wrist in her strong grip.

"I don't have time to play with little boys." Leveling her face with his, Temari shed her docile exterior and met his eyes with a fierce gaze. For some reason, Kiba reminded her of a young dog. Maybe it was his unusually sharp teeth or the feral little way he growled at her. She'd never know.

"Why don't we end this before you're walking on one leg little puppy? You're a few years too early to play with the big boys." Temari said in his ear as her vice grip hardened till she heard the faintest crack in his wrist.

"Hah, I should have known." Kiba smirked, but it was cut off as the pain in his wrist set in. "All the pretty flowers _do_ have thorns."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Temari replied, flinging him away. "I will give you points for finding the holster though." She said.

Grabbing her shoulder with his free hand, Kiba shoved her so hard against the wall, Temari saw spots and felt her breathe silently whoosh out of her. "Why don't you tell me who you're here for?" He demanded, the drawl less pronounced as his voice deepened.

"Fuck off." Temari said, her trademark full lipped smirk gracing her lips. Her teal irises began darkening, a sign that she was ready to fight.

As Kiba moved to shove her again, Temari balled her left fist tightly and delivered a solid blow to his face. Admittedly, it wasn't the best angle to punch from, but at least this would get her point across. She'd put enough force behind the punch as payback for his violent shove _and_ to let him know that she was not a fan of his interrogation tactics.

Kiba moved to duck, but his reflexes betrayed him. The man cursed as her fist connected with his face. Looking up, his eyes blazed as he glanced up at Temari. He lunged at her, his hand forming a constricting grip around her holster he'd previously failed at retrieving. He clawed at the dress, the fingers of his other hand tugging and scratching fiercely at the milky skin of her thigh in order to release the holster. Temari had positioned herself to deliver a crippling kick to his chest when the sound of footsteps that came to an abrupt stop met her trained ears.

"Kiba!" A stern voice called, stopping the bodyguard in his tracks.

"Oh _fuck_…" Temari cursed silently. Her eyes met with Shikamaru's hard ones.

Kakashi stood next to him, his exposed eye narrowed angrily.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Shikamaru's tone was low, almost so low that it disguised the anger slowly seeping through. For a minute, Shikamaru wondered if his eyes betrayed him. There was Temari, backed into a corner with Kiba's hands up her dress. The gown's satin had been wrinkled and torn slightly, exposing some of Temari's scratched thigh. Shikamaru felt himself walking forward and lifting Kiba by the scruff of his neck before he knew what he was doing.

"Kiba, explain yourself!" Kakashi demanded angrily.

"Kakashi-san, she's armed." Kiba explained as he wiped a dribble of warm blood from his nose.

"Kiba are you mad?" Kakashi exclaimed. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Kakashi-san, I'm telling you she is carrying some sort of weapon. I felt it myself! It's on her thigh!"

The burgundy paint on the walls slowly began turning red before Shikamaru's eyes as he approached Kiba. "What gives you the right to touch_ my_ woman?" His tone was frighteningly innocent.

"Your woman is a **bitch**." Kiba stiffened, but held his ground. He knew Shikamaru was strong, but Kakashi was there. If nothing else, at least he wouldn't end up at the bottom of the bay tonight.

A thick syrup of disbelief and rage began pooling in Shikamaru's veins and spreading like slow poison. "Really now? Is that so?" Shikamaru asked innocently. He felt himself slowly giving in. If he were not careful, soon he would let go and fall into something dark and dangerous.

"That bitch is some sort of bounty hunting assassin." Kiba responded, glaring at Shikamaru. "She's got a holster on her-"

Before Kiba could finish his sentence, Kakashi sent a dark look his way.

Kiba simply stared dumbly at Kakashi. "Kakashi-san, you can't be serious. She's carrying something on her thigh!"

While watching the spectacle in front of her take place, Temari had skillfully inched the holster up until it had almost hit her crotch.

"Kakashi-san please look." Temari said as she partly exposed her upper thighs just far up enough that it would have been indecent for her to have shown anymore.

Kakashi and Shikamaru both looked. Contrary to what Kiba had vehemently proclaimed, the holster was absent from Temari's thighs.

"I think Kiba-san has just had a little too much to drink this evening." Temari said, eyeing the bodyguard.

Kiba's face paled. Had he imagined the holster? No…it was there. He'd certainly felt it with his hands. The crafty woman was just not showing it.

"Kiba, how could you embarrass me this way?" Kakashi thundered. Any traces of the cheerful Kakashi from dinner were had completely disappeared.

"Kakashi-san please, the holster is there. It's a little farther up on her leg. I saw it."

"A little farther up? Kiba what kind of **pervert **are you? Do you want Temari to expose herself completely? She's already shown enough!" Kakashi was livid. "Shikamaru, please forgive him. I do not know what has become of my bodyguard."

Shikamaru's lips were set in firm, unmoving lines.

Kakashi's one eye was closed. This was not something that would end well. From what he could gather, it seemed that Kiba had tried to make some sort of advance on Temari and was trying to cover up his true motives by concocting some story about her carrying weapons. Ridiculous.

"Kiba, on your knees." Kakashi watched as Kiba refused to move. "Get on your knees and apologize."

The man stared back at Kakashi, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"KIBA!" Kakashi roared. "Apologize."

As Kiba assumed the position of a supplicant, Shikamaru approached him wordlessly.

Kiba stared into Shikamaru eyes and was taken aback. The inky black disks that stared back at him did not belong to the person he'd observed at the dinner table. Still, Kiba's eyes flashed dangerously, embarrassment and insolence radiating from him in heated waves.

"I'm sorry." Kiba ground through his clenched jaw.

"Why are you apologizing to me?" Shikamaru asked, his dark laugh filling the room. Grabbing Kiba's head, Shikamaru pivoted the man's body toward Temari before shoving his dark head into the floor.

"Apologize to her."

Anger washed over Kiba as he looked back at Shikamaru.

"Why don't you go fuck yourself ya' bastard." Kiba declared boldly, blood smeared under his nose from where Temari had punched him.

Shikamaru was done being moderately civilized. Pulling Kiba up into a sitting position, he grabbed Kiba's wrist.

Holding the hand up in front of Kiba's face, Shikamaru took Kiba's pinky finger and bent it all the way backwards in the opposite direction.

Kiba's guttural scream at his broken finger made Temari flinch. Shikamaru continued at a painstaking pace until all five of Kiba's fingers were permanently curved in unnatural, broken positions.

"Let this be a reminder to you." Shikamaru whispered threateningly in Kiba's ear. "Not only will you respect those who are above you, but you also do not touch what is not yours."

Though broken and in pain, Kiba's eyes still glared with daring.

"Get up!" Shikamaru demanded. "Get up off your ass and stand up."

Kiba rose slowly. As he reached his full height, Shikamaru kneed him squarely in his stomach. Kiba's body slid across the floor, the injured man sputtering blood.

Walking toward Kiba, Shikamaru bent down by his ear.

"That woman you put your filthy hands on is _**mine**_. Do you know the punishment you deserve for what you have done?"

Kiba paled.

"Oh? It looks like you do know. So you're aware that I should have **cut **off every finger that you touched her with? Not only that," Shikamaru remarked with a chuckle. "I would have made you watch as I burned them or fed them to dogs."

Whatever defiance Kiba had now vanished.

"I only broke five of your fingers. Be thankful that Kakashi was here. Otherwise, I would have snuffed you out like a candle. You really don't want to make me angry Kiba. I'd make it really slow and really painful for you. That's not really how you want it to end, is it?"

Trembling, Kiba shook his head.

"Now earlier, I think I remember asking you to apologize. Why don't you get on that?" Shikamaru asked, an innocent smile gracing his lips.

Looking Temari's way, Kiba kneeled down. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I acted in stupidity."

Temari nodded as he heard Kiba's words, though her eyes were focused on Shikamaru. She could taste her pulse in her mouth, thudding hotly against her wet tongue. Was she the only person who felt it? His aura, his strength, his darkness. Shikamaru emotions had somehow permeated the entire room. This was like what she had experienced last night, just without the tangible darkness. Her fingers itched to retrieve her holster.

She'd never wanted to fight anyone _this_ badly before.

Satisfied, Shikamaru left Kiba and walked toward Temari.

Grabbing her arm, he began walking them out. "We're leaving. _Now_."

Without even acknowledging Kakashi, Shikamaru and Temari were gone. As the pair marched over plush carpeting and flew past flickering candles, Temari struggled against him.

Shikamaru refused to release her arm he asserted his strength over hers. "Walk with me, or I will drag you by all that pretty hair you have." He threatened darkly

"Get off me you bastard!" She said, slamming him into the wall. "I can fucking walk on my own. I don't take orders from anyone. Especially not you!" Temari thrashed against him, willing him to release her.

Suddenly Shikamaru stopped. Triumphantly, Temari pulled herself away, thinking she had stopped Shikamaru. Before she turned to punch him, she caught sight of what had stopped the man dead in his tracks.

A raven haired man stood facing them. His midnight black suit and equally dark shirt sharply contrasted his ruby cufflinks. His face was painfully stoic, almost bored looking.

"Sasuke." Shikamaru said the man's name in a pained breath.

Sasuke stared at Shikamaru, his gaze never wavering from the man's face.

"Nara. How long has it been?"

"Too long. Shikamaru said, bile rising in his throat. This was the man who had callously killed his best friend. The urge to grab Sasuke and beat him until he was a bloody corpse was making it difficult to breathe.

"I heard about your former head. My condolences on his death." Sasuke said.

"Thank you."

"Well, it seems you have some business you need to attend to." Sasuke glanced at Temari and took in her slightly disheveled appearance. "We will arrange for a future meeting." Sasuke said curtly.

"Of course. At that time, I have something that might interest you." Shikamaru matched Sasuke's business-like tone.

"Very well. Until then Nara." And with that, Sasuke walked past them and disappeared down the hall.

For a minute, Shikamaru simply stood rooted to the floor. His man drew blanks at words. For the second time that evening, he felt the darkness beckoning him. His rage at Kiba, his hatred of Sasuke, it was all too much to deal with right now. He needed to be out of this building, out the stupid suit that restrained him. He needed his release before he lashed out and massacred anyone who was in his direct path.

Shikamaru began walking, and for once did not care if Temari followed or not.

* * *

Aside from the seductive purr of the car's engine, the drive back to hotel was silent. It wasn't until the pair had reached their suite and locked the door that Temari shattered the silence.

"What the fuck is your problem Shikamaru?" She seethed. "You saw the guy you wanted to see. Instead of killing him or even threatening him, you pussyed out like a little bitch. You two could have settled your shit over coffee if all you wanted to do was chat! Hell, Kiba took more of a beating than Sasuke." Temari spat out.

"Temari, go to sleep. I'm not in the mood to deal with you tonight."

"No. Why don't you just shut up and face me. What do you need me for Shikamaru? To parade me around like a trophy? Or maybe you think I like getting felt up by overly ambitious bodyguards looking for a holster?" Temari was finished playing nice. Her honeyed locks shook as she spoke, her teal eyes darkened and flashing. She could feel her own killer intent rolling off her in waves. "The deal is off."

Shikamaru turned and stared her down. "What did you say?"

"I said, the deal is **off**."

Shikamaru chuckled darkly. "Nothing is off. I _will_ have you until I am _done_ with you."

Like a string held taut for too long, Temari snapped. Not bothering to kick off her heels, she lunged at him. The pair tumbled to the ground with a loud flourish, rolling into the legs of couches and banging into the corners of walls.

Grasping her hands around his neck, she shoved him into the wall. "I'm so **sick** of your SHIT you bastard!" For the second time that night, Temari delivered a punch from the least desirable angle possible. Her right arm curved as her fist dug deeply into his stomach. Wincing slightly, she bore her flashing teal irises into his dark bistre ones. "I am **not **_your _play thing to order around on a whim. You will treat me as your equal or else."

"Or else _**what**_?" Shikamaru challenged, the powers within him sparking. He knew he was slipping. Temari was challenging him, and unfortunately for her, the woman was messing with more than she would _ever _be able to handle.

"We will take this outside, and I will kick your ass and hand it to you on a platter."

And with those words, Temari splashed gasoline on Shikamaru's unseen sparks. Before she'd even registered him move, she found herself forcefully pressed against a wall.

"You're pushing all the wrong buttons tonight." He spoke threateningly into her ear, his hands pinning her wrist above her head.

"Yeah? Why don't I push some more Shikamaru? I'm sure you'd like that."

Shikamaru was trying. Trying his best to not lose it, but each event that evening had simply done its best to compound on the previous one. It had begun with Kiba's stupidity, heightened by seeing Sasuke, and now Temari was just finishing it off.

With each passing heartbeat he felt the call of the darkness more intently. With blurring vision, he watched the woman in front of him, her chest heaving, her eyes flashing dangerously. Shikamaru knew why his control was slipping. He finally understood why the calling had been so strong.

Her strength was calling to his. Shikamaru was tired of fighting himself. For once, he'd let himself go and have what he wanted.

And thus, Nara Shikamaru gave in.

His lips pressed against hers with urgency and want. Temari, gasping at the sudden contact, froze against him. Her mind shut down, leaving her to her own devices. Shikamaru's hot tongue swept across her bottom lip, savoring her sweet taste. His hand kneaded gently into her side willing her into compliance.

Shocked but still marginally aware, Temari did her best to push against him. Temari felt herself panicking slightly. This was bad. Wrong. Stupid. She had to get this man off her somehow.

Shikamaru felt her resistance, but did not stop. She continued hitting and pounding. He answered her struggles by deepening the kiss. Forcing her closer, Shikamaru unleashed his want and heat deep into her soft mouth.

Temari felt herself slipping, and slowly she began letting go. Her lips began moving with his in a heated dance. Shikamaru pressed his body into hers, wanting to feel her every curve against his hard planes. He groaned in need as he felt her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Nudging her lips open with his tongue, Shikamaru plunged into her soft, wet mouth. Moaning inaudibly, Temari struggled against the hand that held her wrists. Shikamaru complied and let go of her hands. Instantly, her slender fingers buried themselves in his hair.

The heated kiss continued with Shikamaru running his tongue along the roof of Temari's mouth. The simple action raked shivers down her spine and made her dig her fingers into his scalp. She broke the kiss, her need for air simply undeniable. Shikamaru merely moved his lips down to her neck, sucking and nipping down the column until he reached the place where her neck and shoulder attached. He licked the juncture before grazing his teeth against it and clamping down.

Temari cried out, her whimper somewhere between pain and pleasure. Her vision was clouding, desire pooling in hot drops in her nether regions.

Shikamaru's hands had settled on roaming Temari's body, but never strayed too far from her hips. His lips moved farther down to the supple skin of her chest, his tongue dipping into the valley between her breasts. Shikamaru allowed his teeth to scrape harshly across the top of her chest. His desire was slowly beginning to wind out of control. Shikamaru moved backed to her lips and devastated her with another kiss. The pair battled for dominance of the kiss with each stroke of their tongues. Burying his hands in her hair, Shikamaru began grinding his body against hers in time with their kiss.

Temari was slowly slipping deeper and farther away from herself. With each touch, Shikamaru was wreaking more and more havoc on her body. Finally, Shikamaru pulled away and buried himself in her chest. Roughly pulling at the upper portion of her gown, Shikamaru freed one of Temari's breasts. Eyeing the peaked mound, he encased his lips around it and teased the nipple with his teeth.

Panting uncontrollably, Temari's nails dug harshly into Shikamaru back. He'd shed his tux jacket once their kiss had become heated. She pulled his tucked shirt out of his trousers and allowed her hands to rake up his naked back. Temari moaned desperately in pleasure, his ministrations driving her to the edge of her sanity.

Shikamaru enjoyed her noises immensely. So much so, that her bit harder against the reddened peak. Temari slurred Shikamaru's name and a moan together, her nails digging so hard into his back, she was sure she had drawn blood by now.

Just as Shikamaru moved to attend to her other breast, a muffled knock interrupted the pair.

"Room service." A muffled voice said through the door.

Livid at the unnecessary distraction, Shikamaru left Temari's side and threw open the door angrily.

"I didn't order any." Shikamaru said darkly.

Temari heard Shikamaru arguing with the bellboy at the door off in the distance. She snapped back to her senses as the horror of what had just happened settled in.

Just what the hell had she just done?


	9. Catalyst

Disclaimer: We all know Naruto isn't MINE. If Naruto were mine, there would be NO Sasuke/Sakura fanfictions. EVER.

**A/N: **I know I'm in trouble. I know I'm in a big, steaming, buttery _heap_ of trouble. But guess who wrote a super long chapter to make up for having to wait so long? Uh, this chick. School was busy, but I've finished up the spring semester…only to start the summer semester next week. Boo hiss? Yeah. In addition to all that, my muse, Javier [formerly called Enrique], and I seriously need to get counseling. We have a love/ hate relationship. It seems like we're always having problems, I know. We just…we just need time to work on our relationship. ALSO, due to numerous requests, I have rewritten the sentence in the last chapter that used the "wanted to do battle with him" phrase. Apparently, it was pretty awkward because I had more than a handful of people mention how weird it was. My bad. I hope you readers still love me. I deserve to be flogged, I know. But alas, please read and review. I'm an unashamed review whore.

PS: I don't usually use this section for advertising, but I'm definitely going to pimp shit right now. Evangelion 1.0 You Are (Not) Alone. Amazing. Glorious. SHINY. It's wonderful. I'd _highly _recommend it. It'll make you fall in love with the wonder that is Neon Genesis Evangelion all over again.

Chapter 9

**Catalyst**

Temari leafed through the manila folder neatly stuffed with pictures that Kankurou had blessed her with over an hour ago. His directions were simple; _go through the pictures and indentify who she had seen on her outings with Shikamaru_. Once she'd recognized the men, she'd then write down when, where, and other details about her encounters with them. The stack of pictures was fairly thick, but it shouldn't have taken her more than an hour if she were actually working _consistently,_ that is. Unfortunately, the glossy photos failed at capturing her interest at the moment. In her defense, she had gone through half of the foreboding pile and identified at least a dozen of the men in them.

Currently, her level of productivity was in the negatives.

Sighing in pure annoyance, she forced herself back to work and began riffling through the photos with a vengeance only Temari could produce. A few minutes into her work, two sharp raps saved her from the horrifyingly boring task.

"Mmm?"

Temari looked up just in time to see the knob turn and her crimson haired brother step inside. She nodded at him. It felt like ages since she had seen Gaara. Between her own work and posing as Shikamaru's not-so harmless arm candy, Temari had spent barely any time in the office, talk less of actually seeing her brothers.

Gaara eyed his sister, her blonde hair haphazardly fashioned into a messy bun with a pencil piercing the middle.

"I see Kankurou is making use of your services." Gaara said, smirking.

Temari rolled her eyes. "Oh yes," she drawled caustically, "because anyone can kill someone, but it takes real _cojones_ to look through grainy pictures and deal with paperwork."

"Scintillating work, I know." Gaara smirked. "You did the scouting so you get to do ID the perps. Comes with the territory, sister dear."

Temari shot Gaara a look that could not only make young children burst into tears but also certainly ruin anyone's day.

"I know how much you enjoy our sibling bonding moments disguised under a veil of witty, caustic banter" Temari waved her hands dramatically, "but I know you're just not here to get to know me better. Or stare at my pretty face." Temari said, her voice mocking and sickly sweet. "What's on your mind?"

Shutting the door behind him, Gaara made his way to Temari's polished ebony desk and sat on the corner. Unconsciously, he rubbed the heel of his expensive loafers against the industrial carpet.

"How was the Hyuuga Gala?" He asked, his arms crossed neatly against his chest.

Temari snorted. "_Interesting_."

Gaara chuckled darkly. "This should be good."

"Oh it's nothing scandalous. After attending the gala, I've filled my lifetime quota for conversing with airheaded bimbos."

"Really? I would have thought for sure that you'd filled that quota by now. Considering airheaded bimbos are a dime a dozen with the men you associate with." Gaara remarked quietly

Temari's full lips stretched into a wily grin. Her brother's jabs at humor were rare but always amusing.

"I was just surprised that the Hyuuga family was such good friends with _everyone _involved in _everything_….illegal. If they decided they were tired of everything, I'm pretty confident that the Hyuugas have the right connections to successfully start_ their_ own country." The blonde remarked, remembering the cornucopia of people involved in different dealings that had attended the function.

"The Hyuuga are crafty people." Gaara began. "And quiet about everything they do under the table. Of course, the Hyuuga family is extremely successful with their many businesses, but the "clean" money they make is just what gets funneled into charity. The real money comes from deals with the mafia."

"It's all very _you scratch my back, and we can continue to live under false pretenses that we're friends until either of us has to take the other out one day_." Temari remarked, distaste bleeding into through her words like food coloring in a glass of water.

"That's how the underground works. The only loyalties are within mobs." Gaara replied. "Truthfully, even the inter mob loyalties are only sustained through the fear of what betrayal brings. We both know that any semblance of duplicitous behavior is akin to death. It's all a bit cruel."

Temari laughed humorlessly. "I snuff people out like candles, and yet you refer to inner-mafia politics as cruel?"

"What _you _do, and what _they_ do are completely different things."

Sighing, Temari turned her attention back to the photos in front of her.

"Speaking of what _you_ do, how is your current assignment progressing?" Her brother's tone shifted, signaling more serious things.

At the mention of her business with the dark haired shadow wielder, Temari inadvertently sliced her finger on the annoyingly sharp edge of one of the pictures in her hand.

"It's coming. Rome wasn't built in a day." She said as she placed her wounded finger on her lips and soothed the small cut.

"Don't forget that you're on a timeline. Finish getting what you need from him and take him out as soon as possible. We can't become complacent and believe he'll keep his word about not revealing your identity. Like you said, it all comes down to back scratching and false pretenses."

Temari nodded. "Spare me the speech Gaara. I know I've got a time limit. I'm sticking it out a few more weeks for Kankurou's sake. Remember, every opportunity I get to be out with Shikamaru gives me another chance to come across more people. It helps me help Kankurou in crossing people off his _to put in jail or assassinate_ list. With Shikamaru, I have access to more than I've ever had before."

Gaara slipped off the corner of her desk. "Yes, you _are_ bringing beneficial information back here. It's helpful. You just need to wrap everything up within the next few weeks. I can't trust him and neither can you."

A wispy honeyed lock strayed from her messy bun and drifted down near her ear. "I don't trust him Gaara. I don't trust _anyone._" She said while adjusting her hair. "I just want to make as much of this opportunity as I can. I've been playing with the big boys for a long time. You don't need to worry." Her annoyance at her brother leaked into her voice as she spoke.

"So if it were up to you, you would have killed him already? Pretend Kankurou isn't in this equation." Her younger brother eyed her seriously.

"Maybe. Maybe not. You don't kill the goose that lays the golden egg until the goose stops being useful." Temari skillfully dithered around the question.

A dark expression settled on the red head's face as he paused. "You've always been good at what you do, but I can't afford to lose you. Unlike Kankurou and I, you are solely a field agent. You have the ability to get close to get close to these bastards. You're very essential to our team, and because of the magnitude of what you do, your safety is paramount."

"Gaara, don't lecture me." The blonde's eyes flashed dangerously as she cut into her brother's dialogue.

"Above all else, you are also my _sister._"

"Gaara, I know. I just think you shou-"

"I want him dead in five weeks. At the _latest_. End of discussion." Gaara's eyes narrowed. His smooth baritone was firm, signaling the premature death of their conversation.

Temari held her peace. Starting a heated argument with Gaara only yielded days of brooding silence between the pair and an awkwardly quiet office with sibling one, Temari, and sibling three, Gaara, ready to snap at each other for anything. It was such a bother for sibling two, Kankurou, to have to deal with siblings one and three's selective bitchassness.

She merely watched his broad back as he left her office and shut the door.

Groping for the pencil in her hair, Temari finally found it and freed her blonde tresses from their confines. In light of her anger, she did recognize that Gaara had given her more than enough time to tie up any loose ends with Shikamaru.

Her thoughts already straying, she wondered-no, she knew-what Gaara's reaction would have been if she'd informed him about her kiss with the man whose life had already been shortened. She envisioned his face instantaneously turning the same shade, if not darker, than his fiery locks. Five weeks? Hah, right. Gaara would have killed Shikamaru on the spot if he knew. Despite the fact that Temari was the oldest of the three, Gaara seemed to prefer assuming the role of big brother when it came to her and men.

It had been almost a week since the gala. The memory of she and Shikamaru's kiss was still fresh yet strangely distant at the same time. How it simultaneously seemed like just yesterday and ages since that night was beyond her. In retrospect, she was immensely thankful for the untimely interruption that had ended their heated embrace. While Shikamaru's threatening aura radiated off him in coiled waves, Temari had composed herself and left for her room. It surprised her that Shikamaru had kissed her, but it wasn't that aspect that worried her.

She_ enjoyed_ his kisses, and **returned** them.

That was what worried her.

Her cheeks colored at the memory of his touch. Annoyed, Temari ground her teeth. She hadn't heard from that punk since the gala. The next morning, she'd woken up to a note on the table saying Shikamaru had already left. Thankfully, he'd made arrangements for her to get back to Suna.

Folding her arms against her chest, Temari leaned back into the warm leather of the office chair. She hadn't allowed herself to dwell on what happened. Shikamaru had just gotten caught up in the moment; it was simply that. They were two adults who did something they probably—no definitely-shouldn't have done.

The kiss had been a mistake. It was as simple as that.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Shikamaru sighed. "Hanamoto-san, my patience has a limit you know? It isn't a bottomless well." His voice was tired at best and dangerously annoyed at worst. He watched the man squirm uncomfortably under his unwavering gaze..

"Nara-san please, if you'll just give me two- no one more week. I'll have the money." The short, pudgy man in front of Shikamaru was sweating profusely under the AC. "I'll do everything I can. I'll beg, borrow, or steal, if you'll just _please_ give me one more week." The man's posture mimicked a supplicant as he kneeled in front of Shikamaru.

"If I'm not mistaken, I'm sure Ken gave you an extension on your loan the last time he was here, didn't he?" Shikamaru drawled. Heckling people for money was one of his least favorite things, but at least this got him out of the office. He was tired of sitting there and stewing needlessly. The longer he sat, the more he thought, and unfortunately, his thoughts were consumed with Sasuke and a certain feisty blonde.

"Ok look, I'm feeling somewhat generous. I'll give you five no- four days. Today is Wednesday, right?" The shadow wielder questioned.

The man nodded helplessly.

"Ok. You have until Sunday to get your ass together and return the money. And don't think you can pull any shit with me. I don't care if you have to sell your kidneys, your kid's kidneys and your dog's kidneys. Have the money or else." With that, Shikamaru exited the shabby building.

Asuma, casually lounging in the passenger seat of Shikamaru's BMW, watched as the younger man ignored the blaring neon lights of the crosswalk and leisurely made his way across the street, regardless cacophony of horns and the many less than savory hand gestures drivers were sending him.

"Yeah yeah, hope you have a fucking swell day too buddy." Shikamaru muttered at the cars as he entered his own.

Asuma gave the shadow wielder a bored questioning look, as if to ask if he'd returned victorious from his quest.

"Get someone to go back on Sunday." Shikamaru muttered. Turning the ignition, he smoothly changed gears and pulled out from the spot he'd parallel parked in. The purr of the engine and heavenly smoothness of the vehicle calmed him somewhat.

While the pair was held captive at a red light, Asuma watched the younger man tap restlessly against the steering wheel. The muscles on the younger man's face were slightly strained, the darkness under his eyes more apparent.

"She must be pretty good if she's keeping you up _all_ night. She got any friends? I could use some 'companionship'." Asuma commented innocently, his deep chuckle permeating the thick silence in the car.

"Not sure if an elderly man like you has the stamina for such 'companionship'." Shikamaru quipped back tiredly, a small smirk ghosting across his lips.

"Touché sir." The older man appreciated the small semblance of normal Shikamaru behavior. He didn't know what had occurred over the weekend, but the young boss had been tightly wound up ever since his return from the Hyuuga gala. He'd chalk it up to the dealings of the underworld, but Asuma knew it was something more than that. Shikamaru seemed harder, more intensely resolute about something. Asuma didn't prod though. Shikamaru wasn't the type to vocalize his affairs anyway.

Shikamaru cruised through yellow lights and ran red ones as the two men returned to the office. He barely registered driving the streets until he suddenly realized he was pulling into the parking garage located beneath the office. Boarding the ramp, he found a spot and parked the car. The pair exited, and Shikamaru pressed the keys to lock the car. Their footsteps were lonely echoes in the empty garage as they walked toward the elevator.

Inside the elevator, Asuma pressed the button with the letter 5, and immediately after, Shikamaru pressed the R button.

"Roof?" Asuma questioned?

Leaning against the wall of the elevator, Shikamaru gave him a knowing look. Whenever Shikamaru just needed the world to stop so he could think, he always retreated to the roof. He'd strip himself of anything he deemed an _unnecessary body covering apparatus_ and just lie on the roof and watch the clouds. Maybe for hours, maybe for minutes; it didn't matter.

"Regardless of whatever the hell has got your panties all up in a bunch, don't jump off the damn ledge."

A small light danced across the shadow wielder's dark eyes. "Why? Are you going to miss me?" He teased as he crossed his arms and leaned his head against the wood paneling in the elevator.

"More like you'd be leaving a damn mess for me to clean up after you were gone." Asuma groused. "And God knows I can't deal with those two morons Gorou kept as bodyguards."

Shikamaru laughed. "I think you can fill my shoes Asuma. I'll even give them to you if you want."

"No thanks kid." Asuma had not broken the habit of calling Shikamaru _kid_ even though he was now the boss. Of course, he didn't do it around others, but when it was just the two of them his nickname for Shikamaru surfaced. "I got enough on my plate before I start picking up dead people's responsibilities."

The doors opened as the elevator eased to a halt. Asuma tipped an imaginary hat to Shikamaru and stepped out of the elevator.

"Get your head clear. You don't have room to make mistakes Shikamaru," were the older man's parting words as he left Shikamaru to himself.

The doors closed and once again, Shikamaru was alone with his thoughts. He appreciated Asuma. He'd said nothing to the man, but Asuma had sensed something amiss. In ways, Asuma was like the father Shikamaru never had. After spending the better part of his youth and most of his adult life dealing with people who could kill in cold blood, Shikamaru was glad he'd been fortunate enough to meet Asuma. The man kept him from becoming hard and unfeeling. Asuma reminded Shikamaru that though the world they dealt in was shady and dangerous, at the end of the day, it was still business.

Asuma never danced around the truth or tried to justify any of the wrongs, but he was honest and practical. And usually, that was all Shikamaru needed.

The elevator glided to a halt and opened into a dark hallway with stairs on the opposite end. Shikamaru exited, made his way up, and pushed the door open. Air, hot and heavy, belched against him as he crossed the threshold and stepped onto the roof. The city was quite a way off from the inhospitable deserts of Suna, but he could easily taste the red sand from the desert in the city air. It was impossible to miss that earthy, dry quality that danced in his nostrils and scorched his previously moist throat.

The roof was a rectangular flat affair with squares of concrete that stretched out until the edge. They reminded him of sidewalks. Squinting at the harsh Suna sun, he waited for his eyes to adjust to non artificial light.

Yanking the collar and buttons of his shirt open, Shikamaru toed off his shoes and socks, unbuckled his belt, and lay against the warm concrete. The unusual buzz of activity grinding away in the back of his skull calmed somewhat while he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly, the sun blanketing over him.

The past weekend had been unsettling, to say the least. His reunion with Sasuke had continually plagued him. Even with his eyes closed, Shikamaru could not rid himself of Sasuke's face. The man had not changed at all. He'd gotten older and probably become crueler, but aside from that his face was still perfectly impassive. Without the Sharingan activated, Sasuke's eyes were endless pools of inky, frigid calculation that someone could easily drown in. The Uchiha's bloodlust was well hidden beneath his poker face, but Sasuke knew full well what he was capable of. Shikamaru easily saw through the façade. He wanted nothing more than to crush Sasuke's spirit like he had so mercilessly crushed Choji's years ago, but he had to wait. The timing wasn't quite right. The pieces on the proverbial chess board weren't in position yet.

A tired groan skittered across the shadow wielder's lips. Through his thick fringe of chocolate lashes, he watched the clouds, some cumulus and well fed, others malnourished and scraggly, puff and wheeze across the arid Suna sky. He was tired of thinking. Thinking of business, stewing over Sasuke, and lastly, wondering about Temari.

Despite the fact that everything was running relatively smoothly, she was becoming a possible wrinkle in his well pressed plans.

He was attracted to her. Attraction might have been a weak word to describe what had been welling up within him. He _wanted_ her. Shikamaru had never expected himself to be captivated by a woman. After all, women threw themselves at his feet. It was all too easy to have what he wanted, but Temari was quite fiery enigma. She was just _different._

Temari was witty, sharp enough to cut someone deeply with her words. She was strong enough to hold her own against some of the most dangerous mob bosses that staked their claim in the underworld. All this, and she was attractive. Damn, that woman was a looker.

Shikamaru had come across all types of beautiful women in his life. Women that were so delicate, they were almost living breathing China dolls. Gorgeous women with red lips and full bodies that seduced the common sense right out of men. Women who would do anything you asked without thinking twice about it.

But Temari did not fall into any of the categories of women he had encountered. Temari was appealing. Attractive in a way that tempted men and transformed the dangerous quality that she exuded into something you wanted. Something you _craved._

Temari was an unbridled flame. Fire always seemed to mesmerize people. Despite what people knew about the dangers of fire, they could never stop themselves from getting closer. Inching slowly at first and before someone realized how or why, they were close. So close that the seductive flames enthralled them with their glowing orange fingers that danced a dance of death. All too soon, you were much too close and the flames licked and singed the edges of your clothes and lit you on fire. Of course, the person had probably known better than to get close to the fire, but they couldn't help it. It drew people in.

Temari had the same appeal. Curiosity was a common trait in all humans. She preyed on men's lust and curiosity, and this was what allowed her to continue beckoning and luring her unsuspecting victims before striking with the precision of the cobra and silencing them before they could even register what had just happened.

Pretty flowers always had thorns.

He'd finally found something that he couldn't have, and he'd picked the most lethal woman to desire. Honestly though, he wasn't attracted to her merely for the chase. There was some magnetism…some gravity he felt drawing him to her. It was that intangible element-the electricity between them.

He'd come to terms with this over the past week. In retrospect, the way he had lashed out at Kiba, Kakashi's bodyguard, during the gala had been unlike him. Something dark and wildly possessive had snapped and spilled over the shadow wielder like hot lava spewing from a volcano when he'd found Kiba with his hands on Temari. Maybe that was what had pushed him to kiss her?

Opening his eyes, Shikamaru risked a smirk. His body gave an almost immediate response to his memory of having the woman pressed against him, the feel of her silky lips sliding and molding perfectly to his. The teal eyed beauty had stirred something in him. What it was, he wasn't exactly sure.

One thing he could be sure about was that this growing attraction to Temari would definitely change his plans.

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Tossing the bouncer a sly look, Temari allowed him to unhook the thick red velvet cord that prevented her from exiting the club. A line of men who'd probably blown their paycheck in its entirety on the outfit they were wearing and women, overly dolled up with too much makeup and wearing too little clothes, jockeyed off to the side, hoping one of them would be able to get into the club. Temari secretly wondered if the women had taped their outfits to their bodies. It wasn't as if their outfits actually had enough fabric to keep their clothes from flittering off them. It couldn't be possible.

Her blonde hair fell in lilting waves around her face and swept down her back while softly skimming across the ruched silk of her strapless mini-dress that hit around her mid thigh.

As she walked away from the club, she turned and glanced behind her. The fine hairs on her neck stood, straight and still. The world slowed to a halt and her vision tunneled as she tuned into her keen senses. A quick but thorough scan of her surroundings yielded nothing. The only slightly bothersome thing was the men in line at the club. Their faces echoed the lascivious thoughts they yearned to voice to her. Temari brushed it off. Even blindfolded with one hand tied behind her, she could make quick work of stooges like that.

Though her interests were mainly occupied with Shikamaru and her arrangement with him, she'd still found time to keep tabs on the other men on her list. She didn't want to neglect her other duties entirely. The place she was leaving was a club called _O__2_. She usually disliked places like this, but _O__2_ was a two story affair with only the first floor being a dance club. The bottom portion of the club teemed with young adults who willingly writhed and pressed against each other to music playing so loudly that you could feel the vibrations in your core.

The upper section of _O__2 _was more a lounge type set up. Temari marveled at whatever sort of soundproofing or insulation was used in the building, because the patrons of the upper portion of the club were blissfully unaware of the debauchery occurring below. Upstairs was more laid back. Hostesses lounged seductively on chez lounges and drank heartily with patrons. From the smoothest cognacs to the best tequilas, the bar was stocked with only most expensive spirits. This upstairs portion catered to lonely and _rich_ men and women.

This was where Temari had found herself tonight. Before Shikamaru had entered the picture, Temari had been advancing on a man named Orochimaru. She never ceased to notice how being near him made her skin crawl. His skin was so deathly white, Temari sometimes wondered if he had powdered it. He seemed to possess some odd reptilian quality about him, from the undercurrent of hissing in his voice to the way his steps were almost as fluid as the movements of a snake slithering deftly in the grass. She wasn't particularly fond of him, but, of course, she played her part well.

Orochimaru was responsible for a certain gang in town that had been wreaking havoc on anyone who found themselves in the wrong territory at the wrong time. His gang, which could now qualify as a good sized mob, waged serious turf wars against others gangs and too many innocent people had been caught in the crossfire. It was simply getting out of hand. Aside from his gang and their sudden interest in expanding their territory, Orochimaru was involved a few others illegal activities, but nothing bad enough to warrant an assassination. At least not yet. You never knew with these kinds of men. They could wake up one morning, decide the world was their fucking oyster, and get involved with more lethal things.

Pulling a hair tie from her wrist, Temari pulled her hair into a high ponytail. The warmer summer air had long faded and left only cool drafts of wind in its wake. Judging from how whitely the stars burned against their raven backdrop, Temari guessed it to be somewhere around 11:30 or later. The establishment's booming music faded as she walked away. Normally, she would have taken a cab, but her apartment was less than a fifteen minute walk from _O__2._ She wouldn't recommend walking alone at night to other women, but this was her. Killing people for a living really altered one's sense of what was scary.

A few minutes into her walk, Temari regretted not taking the cab. The night air was unusually chilly and each gust spread the goose bumps around her body. The night was quiet, and for a few steps, all she heard was the staccato click of her heels echoing softly through the night.

As she rounded a corner, she once again felt the ever familiar sensation of being watched. Unlike before, where it was only the hairs on her neck that stood at rapt attention, her entire body felt unusually tense. Risking a glance down, she noticed lanky shadows that obviously did not belong to her stretched out. It was obvious that whoever was following her wanted their lives to end. Prematurely.

Tonight of all nights, her patience had worn thin, and her mood was worse for wear. Temari longed for a hot bath, her feet screamed in the wicked spike heels she had donned, and she wasn't particularly in the mood to deal with anyone, drunk or sober. Too bad she wouldn't have a choice.

Stopping, the dangerous blonde folded her arms and sighed. People who confronted her when she was annoyed had the tendency to lose limbs. Maybe this would be a non-violent altercation. She eyed the darkened alley directly to her left. If not, she could dump bodies there if she _really_ had too.

"Can I help you?" She spoke into the night without bothering to turn around to address who pursuers.

"Orochimaru-sama requests your company." A voice said quietly.

Temari glanced back. Kabuto's ivory hair seemed to glow under the moon's soft, pale light. His perfectly round glasses glinted in the night as he turned his head toward her. Another burly man dressed in all black that Temari did not recognize accompanied Kabuto.

"I just left Orochimaru-sama. What more could he need of me?" Temari asked, impatience bleeding into her voice.

"I'm only a messenger." Kabuto replied.

Kabuto was an extension of Orochimaru. The second boss, almost. She wasn't sure if Orochimaru sending his right hand man to fetch her meant anything. For all she knew, the man could just be lonely and looking to persuade her into sex by drowning her inhibitions with alcohol.

"Tell Orochimaru-sama that I'm flattered, but I'm on my way home for the evening." Temari masked the distaste in her voice as she eyed the larger man stationed behind Kabuto. His presence was somewhat unsettling. She waved the two men off and resumed her walk. Kabuto and the other man stood still for a moment before they began following her again.

"Please come with us. I'd rather not have to use force." Kabuto lingered behind her.

"Excuse me?" She questioned. Temari felt heat rising and spreading through her veins like slow poison as her breathing increased.

"Orochimaru-sama had a feeling that you wouldn't want to come back, but he told me to use any means necessary to bring you back."

"Why doesn't he just request a different woman? I'm sure finding a replacement for me won't be too big of an issue." The blonde balled her fists at her side.

Kabuto grabbed her arm. His grip wasn't painfully tight, but he was trying to keep her from getting way. These men really didn't know when to stop.

"He wants you _specifically_." The white haired man pressed.

"I've already said that I can't attend to him." The kunoichi responded in a dark tone that said she was done talking.

Sighing, Kabuto looked over his shoulder and motioned at the other man.

Despite the man's size, he was surprisingly quick on his feet. He advanced toward Temari and reached out to grab her.

"It doesn't have to be this way. Just say yes, and we can resolve this peacefully." Kabuto bargained like he knew what was best for Temari.

Slipping out of the man's grasp, Temari caught his wrist in her hand and twisted it behind his back before he knew what was happening. Walking him over to the alley, she shoved his face against the alley's grimy brick walls.

"You really don't want to piss me off Kabuto. I'm not a nice person." Temari gritted her teeth.

"Asano." Kabuto said the other man's name like an order.

As if on command, Temari suddenly felt herself falling. The man had swept his feet under hers and tripped her. Quickly, she released him and slid into a crouching position to catch her fall. Asano had turned toward her and was moving to pick her up. Throwing her concerns about flashing her underwear and modesty out the window, Temari threw out her leg from her crouching position landed a solid kick in his side. For a moment, he doubled over as though he had been dealt permanent damage, but a split second later, he was upright again.

Asano grimaced crossly at Temari. Narrowing her eyes, she smiled back at him. Temari was now back on her feet, and the two were circling each other like hungry sharks. The unadulterated aggression shone brightly in her teal orbs as they flaredhotly in the dark. They were alluring pools of a hunger for violence.

Kicking off her shoes, Temari reached up her dress and pulled out a kunai from her thigh holsters. She was sorely lacking in weapons, but then again, she hadn't planned on using any tonight. The two she had brought with her tonight had been for her own peace of mind. Something about leaving the house completely unarmed just rubbed her the wrong way.

"Remember Asano, do try to limit the damage. Keep her face out of it. Orochimaru-sama will be displeased if we bring him damaged goods. You know how he is." Kabuto chided Asano like a mother warning a child that too many sweets before dinner would spoil his appetite.

Temari pinned Kabuto with an incredulous look. Really? What was she? Fucking cattle?

Asano grunted in response. His eyes glided over her form, but not in a predatory way. He was sizing her up. Apparently, whipping out the weaponry had shown him that she'd meant business. Swinging a shuriken on her index finger, she winked and beckoned him forward. He lunged at her, his arms formed in the shape of an awkward circle as he tried to grab her around the waist. Temari nimbly sidestepped, but Asano caught her arm at the last minute. Twisting in his grip, she forced herself against him and tried to push him away. Her back was pressed against his stomach as she tried to run him into the wall. In the flurry of movement, his free hand connected with her side in a punch that sent the air straight out of her in an audible _whoosh_.

For a handful of seconds, Temari struggled to catch her breath. She felt Asano pulling her around to meet his face, but she quickly snapped out of his grip. The shuriken was still in her hand. Crouching down slightly, she carefully stalked around him as he watched her.

It seemed Asano couldn't fight as well when they were close together. She'd slipped out of his grasp twice now. She used this tidbit of information to an advantage as she suddenly appeared in front of him and dealt a punch straight to his nose.

Asano screamed painfully as his head flew up to his nose. From the angle Temari had hit, she was sure his nose was broken. Blood spilled from his nostrils and down his face and chin in large rivulets. Rage filled his dark eyes as he rushed Temari and ran her into a wall. Unable to dodge, Temari tried to shield herself from the impact. Her skull thunked against the wall with an almost audible crack. Asano's body had completely eclipsed her body as he shoved her against the wall. She felt something hot and wet dripping from the side of her head and down her face. Whether it was the blood from Asano's nose dripping onto her, or whether it was her own blood from hitting her head so hard against the wall, she wasn't sure yet.

"That's enough Asano. Let her go." Kabuto's voice called from somewhere in the dark.

The man stood back, and Temari couldn't keep herself standing upright. She slid slowly to the ground, cursing as she descended. It felt like her head was pounding right out of her body.

The merciless throbbing in her head took a backseat to a sudden new pain she felt. Sharp stabs of something unbearable lanced up from her stomach. Looking down, her breath caught in her throat. The shuriken she had been holding almost halfway lodged in her stomach. The weapon's barb had disappeared in her flesh and only the handle was sticking out.

"Shit."

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Asuma ambled down the dark streets. His third cigarette in the past fifteen minutes limply dangled from his lips. The tip of the stick glowed a flamboyant orange each time he inhaled. He'd been meaning to quit, but he just never got around to it.

He'd just left the office and was on his way to the nearest bar for a drink. He craved something that would make his eyes water and esophagus burn. He didn't know when he'd developed such a taste for alcohol. Ah well. Everyone had their vices.

Immersed in his cigarette, a sudden voice startled him out of his favorite vice. Glancing around him, he caught sight of a couple bodies further down an alleyway. It appeared to be one large man and two small ones. Asuma stopped and watched. A few seconds of observation and realization dawned on him. First, one of the small 'men' wasn't a man after all. It was a woman. A pretty one at that. Second, he knew something shady when he saw it.

Asuma would never have considered himself a _chivalrous_ man, per se, but he wouldn't stand around for women being harassed in a dark alley. He moved closer, straining to catch the figure's movements in the dark. His eyes widened in surprise. Apparently, the large man and smaller woman were the two involved in the altercation. And the woman was certainly not taking shit from the man she was fighting. Asuma watched as the woman slid out the man's grasp and forced him against the wall.

Something irked him though. For some reason, the woman fighting looked oddly _familiar_. He eyed her closely, trying to remember where he'd seen her. Where had he seen that vibrant blonde hair before? Asuma ran a mental list of all the blonde women he'd seen in the past couple of weeks. He continued watching the fight with interest while trying his best to remember why he felt like he'd seen her before.

His cigarette flared with its last vestiges of heat before he tossed it on the ground. Grinding the butt into the concrete with this shoe, all of a sudden it clicked. He remembered.

_Temari._

The moment he realized who she was, he looked up only to see the man literally throwing her against the wall with his body.

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Temari fingered the shuriken in her stomach. This was not good. Her vision swam as she struggled against the wall and stood up. Wiping the blood from the side of her face with the back of her hand, she decided that Orochimaru had now bumped himself up to her hit list.

Glancing past Asano and over to Kabuto, she noticed that he was no longer alone. A dark haired man stood beside him. She tensed. Was this man another one of Orochimaru's flunkies? The man pulled out a phone, dialed it, and handed it to Kabuto.

She couldn't catch his conversation, but even in the moonlight, she saw Kabuto pale. His skin now matched his alabaster hair. Fear swept across his face as he looked directly at her. Apparently, something had displeased him.

As soon as Asuma had recognized Temari, he made his way over. Kabuto hadn't even tried to hide the situation from Asuma. Kabuto threw Orochimaru's name around like it was going out of style. He seemed fully confident in his boss until Asuma dropped the bomb about Temari being Shikamaru's woman. Of course, Asuma was completely bullshitting the part about Shikamaru and Temari being involved in a romantic relationship, but he was pretty sure Shikamaru wouldn't want Temari being roughed up like this. After all, they had some business deal going on. It wasn't until Asuma mentioned that Shikamaru that Kabuto froze.

In the underworld food chain, Orochimaru was the krill that fish ate, and Shikamaru was a shark that ate the fish that fed on krill. In other words, Orochimaru was virtually nothing compared to Shikamaru. And now, Orochimaru and his flunkies had probably just committed one of the _greatest _taboos you could commit.

Asuma pulled out his phone and dialed Shikamaru. He gave the younger man a quick rundown of the situation. Kabuto looked like his heart had dropped into his bowels as Asuma gave him the phone and calmly told him that Shikamaru wanted to speak with him.

Kabuto stuttered and seemed to forget how to vocalize his thoughts. He was that scared. Asuma left him and walked toward Temari. The larger man she'd been fighting eyed him warily. He looked like a brick had been thrown at this nose.

"Are you alright?" Asuma questioned.

"Fuck off." Temari clutched her stomach wound. She wasn't sure who this man was, but the last thing she wanted to deal with was another person. A wave of nausea rolled over her as the pain in her head and stomach throbbed in time with each other.

Asuma smirked. "Feisty little thing, aren't you?"

"Care for a demonstration?" She managed a half lethal smirk.

"I'll pass." Asuma scowled at the puncture wound in Temari's stomach. How she was still standing was beyond him. "Shikamaru isn't going to like this."

"Shikamaru?" Temari questioned.

"Yes, Shikamaru." Asuma saw movement in his peripheral vision and saw Kabuto walking toward him.

Kabuto fell into a shaky bow. "I didn't know." His voice was almost inaudible. "I was just obeying orders."

Asuma snorted. "I would say I feel sorry for what I know is going to happen to you _and_ your boss, but you dug your own grave."

Asano seemed to pick up on the sullen vibes. "What's wrong?"

"She's Shikamaru-sama's." Kabuto looked at Temari.

Asano looked stricken. "What do you mean she's Shikamaru's?"

"What do you think I mean you idiot?" Kabuto snarled. "Orochimaru has been messing with something that wasn't his to have." Kabuto dropped honorifics when he was angry, apparently.

Temari was doing her best to follow the conversation, but her auditory abilities were currently failing her. The blonde assassin stumbled lightly as she tried to walk.

"I wouldn't advise that." Asuma drawled.

Temari shot him a glare. Like she gave a damn what he said. She faltered as she moved to take her next step. Thankfully, Asuma steadied her. Her body screamed in protest as she pushed away from him. She needed to walk. She had to get away from here.

Temari moved to make another step, but didn't get anywhere as the world slowly began graying and fading to black.

**:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Temari's mouth felt hot and dry as she floated between the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness. She wasn't completely aware of what was going on, but she felt herself laying down on something. She was aware enough to feel herself just below the surface of consciousness. Slowly, her eyelids fluttered open. Her eyes adjusted and made sense of her surroundings. In the dark, she couldn't tell how large the room was. Feeling disoriented, a fleeting panic set in.

Where the hell was she?

Lying back, the previous night's events began playing back in her mind like a movie. The ambush after she left _O__2_. Pulling the smooth covers away, Temari groped her stomach. The shuriken was gone, but she felt something rough around where the wound had been. She dipped her hand under her shirt and fingered the rough bandages that had been wrapped around her stomach several times. Temari reached up and also felt her head. Lo and behold, a similar bandage was wrapped around her skull like a halo. A quick search around the room for the clothes she had been wearing was fruitless. It wasn't until now that she noticed what she was wearing.

Whoever had bandaged her had been kind enough to put her in some pajama pants and a large T-shirt. Pushing the thick comforter away, she slowly made her way to the edge of the bed and firmly planted her feet on the floor. Initially, her legs felt like jelly and almost gave way beneath her, but the strength returned while she leaned against the edge of the bed. Slowly shuffling, Temari tightened the drawstring around the pants she was wearing. Before she made it to the door, it suddenly swung open.

A pale yellowish light flowed into the room from outside the door and revealed a disheveled, sleepy Shikamaru. The shadow wielder straddled the threshold and blinked at her. His chest was bare, but he wore pajama pants similar to hers. His chocolate locks were strewn every which way, a sure sign of bed head. She noted the darkening circles under his eyes as she simply stared back at him.

The awkward silence between them stretched on for half a minute or so.

He was the first to break the silence. "Good to see you conscious." Instead of Shikamaru's usual smooth baritone, his voice was a bit gravelly from sleep.

"I've been better." Temari wasn't going to lie. She was in clothes she didn't own, in a house she didn't know, and was battered with injuries she didn't deserve.

Shikamaru laughed. The gravel had worn off a little and gave way to a smoother, richer sound. "Points for honesty then."

"Where am I?" Temari was burning to know about this clandestine location.

"My place." Shikamaru left the threshold and stepped inside the room. "Sit down. The doctor hasn't cleared you for anything too physical yet."

"I'm just standing. I've had worse than this happen"

"I'm not the one who got a shuriken stuck in my stomach." Shikamaru pointed to the bed and told her to sit.

Temari seethed. "Fucking Orochimaru."

Shikamaru once again eyed the bed, but Temari stood her ground.

"He must have wanted to see you pretty badly to have roughed you up that well." Crossing his arms, he leaned against a wall.

"What can I say? I'm in high demand?"

Shikamaru flashed a dark look. "Don't see him anymore."

The blonde's eyebrow arched considerably. "What's it to you?"

"You and I have a relationship. You're seen publically with me. I won't have you gallivanting off with other men."

"What I do with my time not spent with you isn't any of your concern." Temari sultry contralto dropped an octave. That was not a good sign.

"Maybe you're mistaken." Uncrossing his arm, the shadow wielder advanced toward Temari. "What you do with your time is every bit of my concern when it involves _me_."

"It didn't involve you." Temari bit back.

"So tell me Temari. How am I supposed to not get involved when some lower class punk like Orochimaru and his little bitches are harassing _my_ woman? Do you even know how that makes me look?" Shikamaru demanded.

"I don't giving a flying shit about how you _feel _or how you _look_. I'm not your _woman_ or your _anything_. Get that through your thick head Shikamaru." Temari was edging closer to the place where she knew she'd end up breaking his neck, even thought she knew she was in no condition to be fighting. Ignoring the pain in her stomach, she moved to walk past him.

His arm flashed out under him, and Shikamaru gripped her arm. Not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough to make a point.

"Keep fighting me, and you'll open your stomach wound again. You're lucky that shuriken didn't hit any of your vitals." His grip tightened as she marched her back to the bed. "Get up and you'll regret it."

"Fuck you." Temari glowered as she slammed a fist against his chest.

In a movement too fast to mentally process what was happening, Temari found herself on the bed with her arms pinned above her head. She thrashed and writhed angrily against him despite the pain in her stomach.

Shikamaru hovered over her, trying to control himself. This woman's obstinacy knew no bounds. He pressed his knees against her thighs to keep her from kicking.

Temari cursed and fought him as he continued to hold her down. She didn't have much fight in her left, but she would give it everything she had. When this man had acquired a possessive streak, she didn't know. When Shikamaru had become crazy, she did not know.

Shikamaru eyed the woman below him. He could see blood blooming on her shirt. If she was trying to kill herself, she was succeeding. Temari was simply being counterproductive. If she wanted to fight, he could fight too.

The shadow wielder crushed his lips against hers in a devastating kiss. Temari flurried, every part of her straining and thrashing against him. She did not want to be kissing this man again. She _couldn't_ be.

Shikamaru swept across her bottom lip with his tongue. Involuntarily, he shivered. The woman tasted delicious. His lips slid expertly and molded to hers as he watched her lids flutter closed. His tongue teased her lips once again and forced entry into her mouth. He plundered the cavern mercilessly, caressing the roof of her mouth with his tongue as she tried to deepen the kiss.

Something dark stirred within him as he found himself biting her lip in-between kisses. Somewhere in there, Temari had stopped fighting. She was tired, and the different sensations, from the pain of her injuries to the pleasure Shikamaru was giving her, were clouding her senses. His hands left her wrists and sought the supple skin of her hips. Their tongues slid against each other in a battle for dominance with Temari's own slipping into his mouth. Nimble fingers and blunt nails clawed and gently scratched the taught muscles of his back. Heat pooled in his loins as Shikamaru gripped her hips tightly and forced her further into the mattress. Her hands gripped his skin as Temari gasped painfully, a wince prominent on her face.

Shikamaru remembered her injuries and eased his grip. Pressing his smooth lips against her neck, he trailed soft kisses down the silky column. Moving back up to her ear, he nipped her earlobe before speaking.

"Stay in this bed and don't get up, or I'll make it so that you can't walk." He looked at her, his eyes deep, murky pools of desire and something sinfully wicked. They were so dark, it was almost as if his pupils had bled into his irises. She knew her own eyes mimicked his want.

His voice wasn't threatening, but Temari knew she couldn't move anyway. He shifted away from her and lifted her shirt. Crimson had already begun soaking through the beige bandages.

"See what you did?" Smirking, he shook his head. "Being naughty will only delay your healing."

Temari said nothing, but simply watched him as he left the bed and exited the room. He returned shortly, his hands full with more bandages and what appeared to be a first aid kit.

"Are you going to be good while I fix what you messed up?" He asked.

Temari didn't answer. She was too tired to counter what he said with something biting and witty. Maybe it was the blood loss, or maybe it was the kissing, whatever it was, Temari suddenly felt drowsy. Shikamaru leaned in and swept a stray lock of her from her forehead.

"Sleep troublesome woman."


	10. Progress

Disclaimer: If Naruto were mine, Ino would not exist.

**A/N: **Big, big, BIG thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. There was so much positive feedback. Your reviews always make my day. After all, I write for you guys! This chapter practically wrote itself. I sat down Saturday and just pumped out 10 pages. Here's a shout out specifically to **LockDown.** Your review was especially well crafted and entertaining. And yes, I definitely will finish this story. Also, I received a question in a review about the timeline of the story thus far, but unfortunately, it was from an anonymous reviewer. Please do try to leave a name so I can get back to you in a PM instead of via author's note. Anyway, to answer that reader's question: From the get go, Gaara gave Temari about 2 months, and in the last chapter Gaara said he wanted Shikamaru dead within the next five weeks. So Tem and Shika are in about week 3 transitioning to week 4. It probably seems like longer than that, but I've got the story going at slower pace. Hope that answers your question. This chapter warrants the M rating for this story. Beware of the lemonade youngsters.

Chapter 10

**Progress**

Shikamaru's head was thick with sleep as he shifted once again. His body, tired and achy, protested and formed a complaint about his current position and made this all known to him in the form of a crippling leg cramp. A muffled groan and a blind grope later, he was doing his best to massage the stiffening pains in his calf. He sat there for a heartbeat or two longer, simply soothing the ache. Sighing inaudibly, he cracked an eye open and used the hand that wasn't on his leg to brush his crown of hair out of his bleary eyes. Shikamaru's eyes wandered around the room briefly before zeroing in on his bed. Beneath the thick duvet cover, he almost couldn't distinguish the motionless figure. Only a shock of gold splayed on the pillows confirmed that Temari was still in the bed. The shadow wielder sat up and did his best to stretch out the kinks in his back. He'd spent his evening curled up with a blanket on the plush beige leather two-seater couch that was in his bedroom. While his couch was indeed comfortable, it was meant for _sitting_ and maybe the occasional nap. It wasn't to be substituted for a bed. Shikamaru longed for his comfortable bed in all of its soft, downy glory; he'd restrained himself from sleeping next to Temari.

Partly because she was injured. Partly because he knew he was risking waking up without a liver or not even waking up at all. He was pretty sure Temari would not take kindly to that type of behavior.

Kicking the blanket away, Shikamaru shuffled over to said woman. It had only been a little over an hour ago that he had woken up to check on Temari and given her the pain medication Tsunade had left for him. In fact, he'd woken up almost once every hour to check Temari's head. Tsunade, the doctor Shikamaru had sent for, had gone out of her way to make a house call for him at such an odd hour. Shikamaru could have almost kissed the medic for coming the previous night.

Tsunade was an extremely talented physician who worked as the private doctor for many of the bosses in the mob world. In a way, she'd created a niche for herself. Many of her patients' injuries, the most common ones being stab and gunshot wounds, were received during questionable and usually_ illegal_ activities. In a normal hospital, the patients would be probed and forced to reveal the details about how the wound was received, but Tsunade never pried. She knew full well the types of people she was dealing with and guaranteed the utmost privacy.

In his younger years, Shikamaru had acquired his own fair share of _questionable _injuries, and Gorou had always requested Tsunade to tend to him. Like Temari, Tsunade was also a fierce, overbearing blonde whirlwind that refused to take crap from anyone. She and her late husband, Dan, had both worked as doctors in their joint practice until Dan had tragically died of illness. It wasn't until after his death that Tsunade realized that her husband had secretly been the private physician of many of the mafia in and beyond Suna. After Dan's death, Tsunade had inherited all her husband's criminal clientele. Any other woman would have shied away from seeing such men, but not Tsunade. She was just as fearsome, if not more, than many of the people she dealt with.

Shikamaru had ordered Asuma to bring Temari over to his apartment as soon as the older man had informed Shikamaru of the situation. It seemed like an eternity, but eventually a disgruntled Asuma arrived with a broken and bloody Temari. Shikamaru had killed enough people to not be disturbed by blood and gore, but the kunai buried in Temari's stomach made him cringe. Seeing Temari so badly injured made Shikamaru's blood boil. It was only the severity of her injuries that kept him from disappearing into the night and ensuring that Orochimaru and his cronies were in the obituary section of the paper the next day.

Tsunade arrived not too long after Asuma. She'd shooed both men out of the room and managed to construct a makeshift operating table on Shikamaru's dinner table. He and Asuma waited patiently in another room while Tsunade took care of Temari. An undistinguishable amount of time later, she called them back in and briefed them on how to take care of the unconscious woman.

The concussion Temari received wasn't terribly bad, but it wasn't great either. Tsunade still told Shikamaru to check on her every hour she was asleep and occasionally wake her up in the night. The stomach wound was another issue. Thankfully, the weapon had not plunged as deeply as it looked, and it had just narrowly missed puncturing any of Temari's vital organs, but there was still the issue of healing and the possible risk of an infection. The older blonde woman patiently worked her medical magic while cleaning, suturing and bandaging Temari as best as she could.

She promised to come again within the next 24 hours to do a follow up on her patient.

Shikamaru shuffled off the couch and silently made his way over to the bed. The room was still relatively dark, but through the window Shikamaru could see the last vestiges of the moon's milky rays and the purplish nighttime sky slowly bleeding away. The red neon letters of his alarm clock glowed harshly in the dark. It was only 4:47 AM. Reaching down, Shikamaru gently pulled the duvet cover away from her face and really assessed the bruises on her face. In addition to a purplish marking beginning to bloom from her mid-cheek to the lower side of her jaw, Shikamaru noticed Temari's lower lip was marred with a split that neatly ran down the middle. Had this been there when he was kissing her? He couldn't remember. His was too occupied with trying to keep himself from taking her, right there and the.

Shikamaru crossed and uncrossed his arms in the dark, his calm thoughts processing at express speeds.

Another glance out the window revealed that morning was near, but there was still time. Carefully, he ghosted his fingertips against her face and gently ran his thumb across her wounded lip. A quick check to her pulse and Shikamaru stole out of the room. The pain medication Tsunade had left him would ensure Temari would still be sleeping for a few more hours. He grabbed a shirt, shoes, and his keys, and Shikamaru left the apartment.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Temari couldn't breathe.

Somewhere in the penetrating darkness that blanketed over her, she was struggling desperately. A scream built up in her throat but never made it over the threshold of her lips. Thrashing against the darkness, she realized she wasn't simply choking. _Someone_ was choking her. Her fingers sought out the strong wrist that held her against her will and constricted her throat. She clawed and scratched frantically at the hand of her attacker, but to no avail. Fear, thick and heady, shot through her veins like adrenaline in a panicked desperation.

_Temari._

Was she going to die like this? Alone and in the dark being choked by some ungodly strong and unknown hands?

Her hands left the wrists, and she swung blindly and violently. She was searching for a face. Lips, eyes, anything that would make the hands leave her neck.

_Temari!_

Suddenly, the shadowy darkness lifted and gave way to two crimson orbs staring soullessly at her in the dark. Pinwheels as black as the night spun slowly against their red backdrop and stared her in the face. She tried to look away but couldn't. The eyes lured her in and Temari slipped away before she knew what was happening.

"Temari, Temari wake up!"

Temari's eyes snapped open and she found herself staring into Shikamaru's chocolate ones. He hovered over her, his body pressed against hers as he tried his best to keep her calm. Wide eyed and disoriented, she simply stared at him. Panting heavily, she realized his hands were locked in vice grips around her wrists. The sinewy muscles of his arms were drawn taut as he stood stock still. Her mouth was dry and her throat parched. She longed for water.

It was dream. Just a horribly realistic dream.

Cool drops of something wet slid down her face and chest. Her eyes left Shikamaru's face and glanced down the survey the rest of him. It wasn't until then that she realized that he was only clad in a green towel that clung to his slim waist. The slightly tanned skin of his chest gave way to two prominent pectorals that each housed a dusky nipple. His bare muscled chest was moist and radiated heat from him onto her. She longed to use her fingers to trace each individually raised square of his abs, but Temari banished it until the action could come to fruition. Unconsciously, her eyes followed a seemingly innocent trail of smooth dark hair that started below his navel and continued southward below the border of the towel. She peeked and spared a glance at the delicious shape of the well defined V shape that gave way to his groin. Temari felt her cheeks color and forced her eyes upward before she entered a danger zone.

"Are you alright?" He was almost breathless, as though he'd just finished a ten mile run. His hair, free and slick with water, fell over his eyes and sent droplets of water onto the bed.

"W-Water." Temari croaked, her throat lacking the elasticity to help her correctly form words.

Shikamaru nodded and stood from the bed. The movement caused the towel on his waist to shift and slide downward until it threatened to come undone. Temari bit her lip. She was both disappointed and glad the towel stayed in place.

Glancing out a window on the opposite side of the room, she noted the sun, high and bright in the sky. Sunlight spilt through the blinds and washed the wooden floors in a buttery yellowness. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but from the looks of things, it was well into the morning.

Shikamaru, now in a pair of well-fitting jeans, reappeared with a tall glass. He stood next to the bed and handed it to Temari. She willingly accepted it and drank like she'd been deprived of water for days. The chilly water tasted better than the best ambrosia as she swallowed greedily and allowed the water to rush down her throat and relieve the its former dryness. She made no move to speak until the glass was empty.

"More?" Shikamaru reached for her cup.

"No. I'm fine."

"How do you feel?"

"Like a truck hit me, but I'm too medicated to feel it entirely."

"Sounds about right."

"What time is it now?"

Shikamaru tossed a carless glance at the clock. The round silver edges contrasted the black face and metallic raised numbering that were different pieces of warped metal that had been shaped to form numbers. It was one of those modern abstract-ish pieces that were supposed to be decorative _and_ function.

"A little past noon."

A pregnant pause settled between the pair. Neither knew what to do or say. Temari was about to open her mouth when the hybrid child between a groan and a gurgle escaped her stomach. Immediately, her hands flew to the spot to contain the noise. She immediately winced loudly when she realized she'd accidentally pressed too hard and aggravated her stomach injury.

"I'll be pretty annoyed if you open that wound up. I can suture people up, but Tsunade will be pissed to see that I've tampered with her handy work."

Her fiery retort died on her lips when she realized he was serious. She paused. Too many thoughts and questions were jostling in her mind.

"Why was Asuma where I was last night? It's all a little too convenient."

"What? You think I'm tailing you now?"

"Oh come on Shikamaru." Temari said in a chastising tone. "You seem to think you can tell me what I can and can't do and who I can and can't see. So, I won't buy any bull about being morally opposed or some shit like that."

Shikamaru chuckled. "You know, I wish I _were_ tailing you. It would have kept you out of trouble."

"I can keep myself out of trouble, thanks."

"Yeah. You were doing a great job last night."

Temari sent him a milk-curdling glare. She touched her head and felt the bandage that rimmed the circumference. Slender legs slipped out from under the duvet as she scooted to the bed's edge.

"Bathroom?" Shikamaru's voice made the word sound like a bored statement with the rising intonation of a question.

"I'm leaving."

He sighed. A pause followed before he sighed again. He almost let a third sigh happen, but that would have been too much. "You really want to get yourself in trouble, don't you?"

Temari's teal orbs scintillated.

"Listen Shikamaru," Temari ground out between her teeth, "let's get something straight. Just because we have a deal going doesn't mean that we can be friends now. I don't trust you. And, at no point, did I ask for you or _anyone_ to save me. If you're under the asinine notion that I'm now somehow indebted to you for helping me, get your head fixed. I don't know what you're thinking, but remember that what we are is _strictly _business."

"You really think so?" Now it was Shikamaru's turn. His eyes flashed dangerously at her. "Who do you think you're fooling?" He slid toward her, his body now inches away from hers. Gently but firmly, he grabbed her chin and tilted it toward his face. The warmth his eyes usually held had bled away. The irises were dark and cold, murky and intoxicated with some emotion Temari couldn't exactly place.

Wavy, golden tresses shimmered as Temari laughed. Her laugh was rich, sultry and deep like a good wine. The young boss could not contain the shiver that caressed and kissed up his spine as the sound of her laugh washed over him. It was gorgeous and god awfully frightening at the same time. Shikamaru wanted more. He was once again the moth being drawn into Temari's fatal flames.

"You're only fooling yourself Shikamaru." She countered. "What? Are you going to hurt me?" She challenged as she stared defiantly at him through her fringe of flaxen lashes.

"Do you want me to?" Shikamaru husked out. He could feel his pulse quickening. God, the woman was bringing out the worst in him. With each passing second, Shikamaru could feel the darker side of him warring for dominance.

"Kiss me again…." She said, kneeling on her knees and barely tracing the shell of his ear with her lips. Her voice was a throaty whisper that was ever so slightly pushing the man next to her over the edge and into a chasm he would never climb out of. Shikamaru shifted closer to her, ready to oblige. His lips were centimeters away from hers when she deftly pulled away again, her lips once again near his ear.

"Kiss me again," Her hand trailed the sinewy chest, "and I'll make sure you're sleeping at the bottom of a bay and wake up somewhere that makes hell look like paradise." Temari's playful hand tightened and forced Shikamaru into the bed with a powerful thrust.

She hovered over him, triumphant at the upset she had just pulled.

"Don't mess with me Shikamaru. You'll regret it." She spared him one last glare before she pushed away and slid off the bed. Her head wound wasn't too painful, but the pain in her stomach radiated throughout her midsection. She was halfway to the door when she froze. Temari frowned. She moved to take a step but her legs refused to obey her.

It was almost as though she were paralyzed.

"What? You decided you want to stay?" Shikamaru's voice teased darkly from somewhere behind her.

She couldn't move, but Temari turned her head just enough to see Shikamaru standing in a position similar to hers. A pitch black shadowy void stretched out between them. His hands were folded in a position similar to one that someone praying would assume.

"What did you do to me?" Her vocal cords were straining to keep the scream from surfacing. She wanted to keep calm, but the overwhelming urge to claw Shikamaru's face off was polluting her every coherent thought.

Shikamaru did not speak, but merely took a step toward her. Similarly, Temari's body jerked and moved toward him.

"Do you want me to bind you like this until you stop being stubborn and _stupid_?"

Temari bristled. Of course, she knew she was stubborn. But _stupid_? She was anything but stupid.

"Why won't you let me leave?"

"Do you have suicidal tendencies Temari?"

Temari was ready with one of her famous all-purpose caustic comebacks, but his question took her by surprise.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you want to kill yourself? Is that your problem?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You're wounded. You have a concussion. There was a fucking kunai stuck in your stomach. You're a smart person Temari. But really, what part of moving around with those injuries is a sensible to you?"

"Listen, I can han-"

"No. You can't handle yourself. Shut your mouth and give yourself time to heal."

"Do you think I can just decide to disappear? I have work. I need to report ba-"

"Are they going to come looking for you?" Shikamaru interrupted her.

"Orochimaru and his men?"

"No, not him. He's not a problem." Shikamaru said. "Gaara and Kankurou I mean. Are they going to come looking for you?"

Alarm shot up through Temari's veins. Shikamaru knew of her brothers. She'd never mentioned having any siblings, but he _knew. _How much information had he been harboring about her that he'd yet to reveal?

Shikamaru crossed his arms. Against her will, Temari's arms mimicked the motion. Concentration painted his features, his brows knitting together in deep thought.

"Your brothers shouldn't worry unless they have a reason to. You'll be fine to stay here until you're suitably healed."

"I want to leave!" She screamed. Temari's fury was unbridled and fearsome thing.

"Go ahead and leave." Shikamaru taunted. "I'm not stopping you."

"You son of a bitch."

"I'm doing you a favor you ungrateful, troublesome woman." He spat back. Slowly, he forced her to walk away from the door and back to the bed.

The woman was pushing him. Only Temari knew how to push him in all the best and worst ways. Shikamaru knew three sure-fire ways to push back against someone opposing him. First, he reasoned with them. A good negotiation could change things. He'd tried reasoning with Temari. He'd explained himself, but it just wasn't working. Next, there was violence. But really, was he going to use violence against an injured, albeit dangerous, but still injured woman? Definitely not. There was one last option, but he hesitated to use it. It had worked before with Temari, but still...

Raking a hand through his thick locks, he sat on the edge of the bed with her. His eyes were closed, his fists clenched in tight balls.

Temari was still. Unbeknownst to Shikamaru, she was scheming. She didn't quite understand how his power worked, but she felt it; the steady flow of energy between him and her. The strength of the flow ranged from between a rushing river to a trickling stream, all depending on how Shikamaru was feeling. Slowly seconds passed, and she felt the power begin to calm. Now, all she needed was a disruption or a weakening in the flow, and she was golden.

"Don't fight me Temari." He was saying this for her good _and _his. Temari had been settled for long enough that Shikamaru lessened the strength of his hold on her. For a split second, his concentration of his power faltered ever so slightly, and Temari felt it. It was what she had been waiting for. She seized the opportunity and mustered up what strength she had and slowly tore out from under his shadow paralysis.

Like a flash of lightning, Shikamaru reached out and grabbed her wrist.

The man chuckled darkly.

"You never cease to amaze me Temari." He turned to her and smirked. "No one has ever done that before. I'll give you points for figuring out how the Kagemane no Jutsu works, but thinking you could overcome it so quickly was a miscalculation on your part."

Gently, he pushed her back against the soft bedding before straddling her.

"Stay. I want you to heal. You don't seem to have a problem with fighting dirty to get what you want, and neither do I. And if I need to fight dirty to keep you here, I will." The teasing tone from before was gone. His voice was low and serious.

"Why?" She questioned, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Because," he said, his eyes dark and deep with hunger, "I _want_ you." He released her wrists and kissed her before she had anytime to argue. If he was going to fight dirty, he might as well enjoy it.

Shikamaru's third and final negotiating tool was seduction. When reasoning and violence had failed or just wouldn't have been the right tactic to employ, he could easily seduce information out of women. Shikamaru probably could have had a few men at his mercy, but he didn't swing that way, and he wasn't ready to start meandering down that alley anytime soon.

He rarely ever had to resort to it, but Temari was a special case. It wasn't as though he was seducing her for the sole purpose of leading the woman on. They'd been playing a coy, teasing game of cat and mouse ever since their paths had crossed, but now he was tired of playing. He genuinely wanted this woman. All of her.

The pair tumbled across the bed, Shikamaru not heeding anything but ravishing the woman beneath him.

Unlike the first two times when Shikamaru had kissed her, this time, Temari did not freeze. It was almost as though her mind had created a special file for kissing Shikamaru. Her lips automatically moved against his like they had rehearsed this bit beforehand.

Temari knew what she was doing was wrong. Very, very, wrong.

Whatever pain medication she was on had worn off since she'd been awake, so she couldn't exactly blame her current situation on a medicated lapse of judgment. She knew he would stop if she made a big enough fuss. She could bite his lip until it bled, punch him in the stomach, something_, anything_.

But she did none of those things.

In fact, she only moved closer and kissed him back. Apparently, in the two previous times she had kissed him, it had been long enough for her mind to form a conditioned response to his mouth. The moment they started kissing, pleasure coursed through her like a hot liquid. His mouth meant his lips and his lips, of course, automatically meant bliss. A dangerous, forbidden bliss.

Her fingers threaded through his mass of chocolate hair as she gently nibbled the edge of his lip. His tongue, imploring for entrance, nudged against the seam between her lips. Slowly, the skilled muscle slipped in and began exploring her mouth with a painstaking thoroughness. His tongue painted her teeth with grace and skill. She only broke the kiss when the need for air was unbearable. Shikamaru did not stop, but merely shifted down to her neck.

Alternating between bites hard enough to definitely leave marks and soft teasing nips, Shikamaru took his time in melting the woman beneath him. His tongue visited the valley between her breasts, and he even dared to suckle the nipples through her shirt. A breathy moan Temari didn't even knew she had produced slipped over the threshold of her lips when Shikamaru's hand caressed her sides. His fingers gripped the edge of her shirt and moved to slip it over her head. Surprisingly, Temari obliged. The fabric rustled over her skin and hair before her chest was bare. She assumed the bra she had been wearing the previous night was discarded when she had been she'd been changed out of her clothes.

Her fingers left his hair and moved to his neck and she strove to pull him closer to her. Shikamaru hadn't bothered to put a shirt on after his shower, and the raw feeling of skin against skin was delicious. Neither Temari nor Shikamaru could get enough. Leaning forward, Temari bit savagely at his shoulder as her fingers raked down his back. The man groaned loudly, his toes curling at the feeling that washed over him. He'd always been told that pain and pleasure were not that far apart from each other, but Temari had just proved that to him as she successfully married the different sensations.

Shikamaru's eyes traveled leisurely over the two full breasts that innocently stared at him. The dusky nipples stood perky and alert, probably from all the attention he'd given them earlier. He leaned down and kissed each one tenderly before moving down to the taut, lean muscles of the unwounded portion of her abdomen. His tongue mapped warm, wet trails against the unmarked skin and even dared to dip in her navel. Temari squirmed. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, just different.

As he continued to concentrate on stomach, she could feel the warmth searing through her veins and gathering in her loins. It was a luscious; the heavy, heady lust clouding her thoughts yet heightening her sensitivity.

Shikamaru wasn't doing much better himself. His breathing had gone from a fixed in and exhale to a steady pant. The tightness in his pants was nearly unbearable. His thoughts were chaotic, his desire quickly stealing away his reason. A glance upward revealed a Temari awash in sensation, her full lips plumped and reddened from their kisses. Her blonde hair splayed wildly against the pillow, her fingers gripping the sheets with a needy desperation.

He leaned in to kiss her, but stopped a few inches from her face. His hair was disheveled, his eyes dark with need and something else she couldn't place. The warm bistre of his irises had deepened to rich ebony making it impossible to distinguish pupil from iris.

"Temari." Her name left his lips in a deep, gravelly moan. Shikamaru's restraint was altogether lost as he felt the darker side of himself welling up and dominating what control he had left. Want, lust, and a deep frustration rose to the surface and pricked his skin. For a split second, Sasuke flashed through his mind. He bit back a growl. His hatred for the man exploded through him before he crushed his lips against Temari's in an attempt to soothe the frenzy of emotions he was feeling.

The kiss was slow at first, their lips merely sliding and slanting against each other out of habit. His hands wandered even as they kissed. Her lips, her hair, her skin, he touched it as thought he couldn't get enough.

Temari's thoughts were fuzzy around the edges. Hadn't she promised Shikamaru a death sentence if he'd kissed her again? Those words seemed eons ago now. Her back arched violently off the bed when she felt Shikamaru's fingers slip beneath the waistband of the pants she was wearing. Neither of them paid attention to Temari's now reddened bandages. His deft fingers stroked her inner thigh, sending shivers that surged directly up her spine and raced back down to her sex.

Shikamaru was moving to slide her pants down her leg. He left her lips and rained soft kisses and nips down both sides of her inner thighs. Something in the back of her mind nagged. It told her to make the man stop his wonderful kisses, the caresses that were slowly melting her brain, and the bites that made her unable to control her vocal functions. Temari acknowledged the nagging, but did nothing to act on it.

The shadow wielder left the sensitive area between her legs and moved back to her neck. His teases were merciless, but he was past the point of being nice. His tongue had just finished searching hollow behind her ear when the doorknob turned and the door to the room opened.

Shikamaru stopped and allowed a few seconds of silence to pass before slowly turning his head and facing the intruder. His gaze must have been particular fearsome because the look that shot across Asuma's face was one he'd never seen before.

"What," Shikamaru's voice held the low quality that only emerged when his more dangerous side had taken over, "do you want?"

Before Asuma could answer, a blonde woman slid out from behind him and marched in the room.

"Really Shikamaru," the voice sounded exasperated, "you really couldn't wait until she was healed? You really want me to kill you? You _really_ want me to?"

"_Leave_." Shikamaru ground out through clenched teeth. "Leave and come back later Tsunade."

The woman remained un-phased. Long legs carried her to the bed and equally long arms grabbed Shikamaru's arm and forced him off only to expose the more than half naked woman beneath him. The dark haired man stumbled but managed to catch his balance before crashing on the unforgiving wooden floors.

"See what you've done!" Tsunade pointed to the crimson that dyed the brown bandages. "I swear to god, you should be thankful that I don't wring your neck." She sent him a glare that would have sent most grown men crying. "Ripped open my perfect stitches." Tsunade mumbled to herself.

"Asuma, take him out of the room while I fix what he's broken." Tsunade did not ask. She ordered.

"I'm staying." Shikamaru bit back.

"You want to die?" Tsunade threatened.

Shikamaru sent her a dark look.

"Asuma," Tsunade growled dangerously, "make him leave the room or I leave. And I won't come back Shikamaru." Tsunade had thrown down the gauntlet.

Shikamaru was altogether ready to duke it out with the medic before Asuma gave him a deep, searching look.

"Use your head kid." Asuma's tone was chastising. "The one on your shoulders, not the one in your pants." He added as an afterthought.

Shikamaru had planned to give Asuma a scalding look, but he knew the older man was right. He sighed and turned around to leave.

"Bring my bag in here too." Tsunade said.

Shikamaru gave Tsunade a blank look. She'd interrupted him and Temari, and _now_ she was ordering him around? He would have broken something if he could have, but unfortunately, there was nothing breakable within reaching distance.

"What? Am I going to produce gauze out of my ass?" The medic demanded.

Asuma pushed the man along before there would be more than one person with injuries in the room. As far as he knew, only he and Tsunade could talk to Shikamaru like that without the fear of losing something important. Like their tongue. Or an appendage. And Tsunade only got away with it because she was a good doctor, a damn good one at that.

Shikamaru sat on the couch in his living room while Asuma couriered the bag back to its owner. He picked up a folded red and white box on the table and handed it to Shikamaru before sitting on the sofa directly across from the man.

The intoxicating scent of savory meat and vegetables wafted up through the container.

"Food?" Shikamaru questioned.

"I figured you'd need something to feed her and yourself with."

"Her?"

"Temari." Asuma declared.

"How'd you know she'd still be here?"

"Let's call it a hunch."

"You know me too well."

Asuma grunted in agreement.

"You didn't knock before you came into the apartment." Shikamaru stated through a mouthful of noodles.

"I did. I knocked for a couple minutes. I figured you were sleeping. Or just too lazy to get up and answer the door."

Silence reigned as Shikamaru ate his food. It was times like this that he loved and hated the fact that Asuma had a key to his apartment. It might have seemed strange, a mob boss giving out the key to his apartment, but Shikamaru never feared that Asuma would stab him in the back. Even if Asuma did betray him, there were very few things that were much scarier than Shikamaru out there. Plus, Asuma had saved his ass enough times when Shikamaru had locked himself out of his apartment.

"Did you call Tsunade to come?" Shikamaru asked.

"No. Met up with her on the way here."

"Convenient."

"So…" Asuma's voice trailed. "How much trouble am I in?" He joked.

"A lifetime and an afterlife's worth." Shikamaru rose and walked into the open kitchen before tossing the empty takeout carton in the trash.

"Was she that good?"

"I wouldn't know. Someone interrupted before I could find out."

"Touché." Asuma stifled a smirk. "What should we do about Orochimaru?"

"Already taken care of."

Asuma's eyes widened. "Already?"

"Well, not Orochimaru. I'm saving him for later. He should be expecting some presents soon though."

The older man studied Shikamaru's face. It held no sign of anything that would give him away, but he knew. Shikamaru never made large announcements about anything big he did. For Shikamaru, there was an inverse correlation between how gruesome something was and how much he spoke about it. The less detail, the more awful it was. Asuma had learned a long time ago not to take Shikamaru's easygoing persona lightly.

"You wasted Kabuto and the other guy didn't you?" The sentence came out of Asuma's mouth more like a statement and less like the question it was supposed to be.

"Everyone." A corner of Shikamaru's mouth turned up slightly. He'd gone out and did what needed to be done all before Temari had woken that morning.

Asuma barely caught the brief smile that danced across Shikamaru's face and disappeared as soon as it had appeared. "All of them? You don't think that was a bit much?"

Shikamaru set his eyes on the older man "Don't act like you aren't aware of how things work Asuma. That's what happens when your boss messes up. Everyone pays." Orochimaru would realize just how much he was paying when Kabuto's severed arms and legs arrived at his doorstep that day.

"Why didn't you just take care of Orochimaru while you were at it?"

The fleeting smile from before returned, but this time it wasn't as short lived.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you to save what's best for last?" He wanted Orochimaru thoroughly remorseful and scared shitless before he even physically harmed him. The man would be unable to function with the threat of Shikamaru looming over him. It was horrible knowing one was going to die, but not knowing when or how would drive Orochimaru into a slow delirium.

"All for one woman? _This_ woman?" Asuma crossed his arms and stared dubiously Shikamaru's bedroom door. "Tell me Shikamaru, what has she done to warrant your protection? Your strength?"

"Stay out of this Asuma."

"She'll be the death of you. I don't trust her."

"I need her."

"You can want her, but don't need her. Sleep with her as much as you want. Get it out of your system, but let it end there."

"She's not some whore to be casually dealt with Asuma."

"Why is she different from any other woman? What makes her worth risking _everything_ you have? Open your eyes Shikamaru. She killed Gorou! She seduced him and killed him. Have you forgotten that she's an assassin?"

"Gorou was a stupid pig. He had it coming."

"Yeah, the same dumb fuck that picked you up off the streets. You are what you are today because of Gorou. Realize that." Asuma spat the words back that the younger man.

Shikamaru grabbed Asuma's shoulder and stared at the older man.

"No Asuma." His voice was low. "_I_ made myself what I am today. What Gorou did would not have meant shit if I were weak. I did his dirty work. I let him use me. But who lucked out in the end? Without me, Gorou was nothing. Don't you think I could have killed him? Don't you think I could have gotten rid of him and made myself boss years ago? I could have, but I didn't. I let him think he was in charge. We both had things we wanted. I wanted his power, and he needed my strength. I could have all the strength in the world, but that won't be enough to lure Sasuke. Now that Gorou is dead, I have all the power I need. I've succeeded him and everyone acknowledges me as the new head. I've lived the last few years of my life like a chess game Asuma. Each move affects the next one. I don't make reckless decisions Asuma. Trust me."

"But where does she come into all this Shikamaru? Why does it have to be _her_?"

"She's what I want. She has what I need. I need her Asuma. I need her for my revenge. I need her for myself."

"So you contacted her and initiated the deal with her under false pretenses?"

"Not entirely. From the get go I knew she was powerful, but all the things I said about her extracting information from other bosses for me? That was a lie. I could care less about petty politics. If anyone really wanted to kill me, they would have made their move by now."

"I hope you don't regret this Shikamaru. I really hope you don't."

"Regret is a troublesome thing Asuma."

The door to Shikamaru's bedroom swung open and Tsunade walked out. Temari, now fully clothed again, followed behind her.

"Open the stitches again," The blonde medic paused, "and I _will_ kill you." She said the last three words very slowly. Her gaze settled on Shikamaru.

"No more extracurricular activities." She eyed both Shikamaru and Temari. "Nothing strenuous. Nothing you know you _shouldn't _be doing. I've warned you Temari. If you decide to disregard what I'm saying and end up bleeding out because of it, I won't give a damn regardless of how much Shikamaru threatens me. So stay here and heal."

Shikamaru smirked.

"I left something for her pain on your nightstand. One every 8 hours. I'll be back in another couple of days to check on her."

"Anything else?" Shikamaru asked.

"Feed her." Was Tsunade's offhanded comment as she picked up her bag and waved a goodbye.

Temari rolled her eyes.

A somewhat uncomfortable silence settled in the room once Tsunade left. Temari couldn't look Shikamaru in the eye without coloring up. Asuma was staring at her through narrowed eyes, and Shikamaru's stare kept flickering between Temari and Asuma.

"I'm leaving." The older, dark haired man finally declared. His presence wasn't exactly needed at the moment. He paused and murmured something in Shikamaru's ear before he turned and left. Shikamaru sighed and shook his head before giving the floor a tired look.

And then, there were two.

The pair stood in the middle of Shikamaru's living room, not talking, barely breathing, and occasionally meeting each other's gazes. In that moment, there was enough awkward to last both of them a lifetime.

Shikamaru finally broke the silence.

"Asuma…brought food. Eat something." Shikamaru motioned to the white box innocently sitting on the bar in the kitchen.

Temari nodded and wandered over. Perched on a barstool, she sat and opened the box. She didn't realize how hungry she actually was until the first bite. Her stomach gurgled angrily at being empty for so long. She couldn't get the food down fast enough. In her haste, she nearly choked on the rice she was eating.

Out of nowhere, a glass of water was shoved her way.

"The food isn't going anywhere. Take it easy." Shikamaru had left where he was earlier and was now standing on the side of the bar opposite from Temari.

Temari gulped the water and cleared her throat.

"Your medic." Temari's voice trailed. "I like her."

Shikamaru laughed. "You two are similar."

Temari eyed him.

"Blonde. Overbearing. Ready to kick my ass." Shikamaru ticked off their similarities on his fingers. "Yeah, you two are nearly sisters."

Temari chuckled quietly.

Another silence settled in while she finished her food.

"So, you're going to stay here?" Shikamaru suddenly asked.

The blonde sighed. "I don't have a choice, apparently. And she sewed up the wound again without any anesthetic just to prove a point."

"Sounds painful."

She shrugged.

"Typical Tsunade." Shikamaru commented. "Maybe I should kiss it and make it better?" He looked up at her, his sly expression suggesting that things would certainly not end at a kiss.

"I'll pass." Temari managed to keep a blush from creeping up her face.

"Oh? Why's that? You seem to enjoy kissing me. Or, at least you did before we were interrupted."

"Because Shikamaru," Temari began, "that wasn't supposed to happen."

"It's happened two-no, three times now. What's to stop it from happening again?" The dark haired men gazed thoughtfully at her.

"You're you. I'm me. We don't mess around. Meaning, we don't _and_ shouldn't kiss or anything beyond that."

"But we do." Shikamaru countered. "We do, we have, and we_ will_."

"I don't mix business with pleasure."

"Bull. You like it. You like kissing me."

Temari opened to disagree, but she knew her lie would be feeble.

Shikamaru sighed. "Let's be honest. I like kissing you. I'm attracted to you. You, also, are attracted to me and enjoy kissing me, but you tell yourself you shouldn't. You're under some asinine notion that kissing me is bad, and therefore, you try to find a reason for us _not_ to kiss, despite how much you enjoy it. You find it easier to justify us not getting close and deny yourself than to give in and let yourself have what you want. You think pushing me away will close all doors and soothe your conscience."

"I'm not a masochist."

"Keep telling yourself that. But you know what? You can rationalize and justify until you're blue in the face, but that won't erase what's going on here. Maybe you can soothe your conscience for awhile, but your body will betray you."

"There's something going on here?" Temari parroted.

"Of course. What we have between us is an excellent, complex thing. I don't know what it is, but you have something that sets me off and vice versa. Not to mention that we were just a skip and a hop away from doing the horizontal tango a couple of minutes ago. People with nothing between them don't have that kind of chemistry. "

"Almost sleeping together is not a basis for anything. Lust is a primitive instinct. We don't have chemistry. We have frustration. Anger. Violence. Annoyance. Dislike…"

A smirk turned the corner of Shikamaru's mouth up. "I won't bother arguing with you, but mark my words Temari. You're fighting a losing battle, and by the time you realize it, you'll already be in my bed and calling out my name."


End file.
